


Another Window

by codevassie, gdesertsand



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Attempt in forgetting the past, Depression, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Lies, M/M, Memory Alteration, Psychological Drama, Suicide Attempt, personality change, psychological problems
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-11
Updated: 2017-05-06
Packaged: 2018-10-17 11:43:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 24,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10593318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/codevassie/pseuds/codevassie, https://archiveofourown.org/users/gdesertsand/pseuds/gdesertsand
Summary: Lovino made a big decision after a certain event. If no one appreciates Lovino Vargas then he will exist no more. World, welcome Flavio Fernandez Carriedo, he is the adopted son of Antonio Fernandez Carriedo (HumanAU).





	1. Chapter 1

The moment someone decided to jump off the rails called life was the moment a person would realized that they were weak and a coward to face the harsh realities and start blaming the people surrounding them about their miseries…and then they were going to start blaming themselves giving them that push needed to jump off and embrace a good friend called death.

 

Lovino didn’t exactly know when it had started. Actually…was there someone out there who knew when this downward spiral started in their own life? Like they could point out the exact date, hour, or even seconds when the trap door opened and they fall into the pits of numbing darkness? Lovino bet that no such person was there…if there was then he didn’t know if that person was the luckiest for knowing when he succumbed to the clutches of depression or the unluckiest because they knew but didn’t do anything to rescue themselves.

 

The thing was, Lovino didn’t exactly know. But he knew that all of the events piled up to the point where he finally decided to jump off the rail, metaphorical speaking, and was ready to meet the grim reaper that would accompany him to the next place someone like him should go. He didn’t mind being stuck in purgatory, or even in hell, but he knew that there was no way the doors of heaven will open for him.

 

Funny thing was, only fifteen years of living in the earth and he was ready to kick the bucket.

 

Just because he really feels that he was just a waste of space.

 

Ah…if only that when he was gone then hundreds of millions of people will rejoice*…but at last, the world did not work that way and he would be just like a stain finally taken care off.

 

Let’s see if the events could be summarized with little amount of words as much as possible. His parents died when he was at the age of six and left him and his little brother (who was two years younger than him) with their Grandpa on the side of their father’s family. At the age of eight Lovino realized that his little brother, Feliciano, was a literal angel sent from the heavens (the words echoed in his mind) with all his smiles and cuteness and over all sweet attitude that Lovino could not do. The adults were wary around Lovino due to his infamous temper tantrums so they always focus their affectionate attentions towards the younger one and only make sure that Lovino got all the sustenance he needed but aside from that…no one wants to stay with him longer than they needed to be. He knew this as a fact for Grandpa didn’t know also how to act around Lovino but always make sure that the older child got all the foods and materials he needs to keep him alive and avoid boredom. At the age of ten, Lovino realized that anything he do would always be compared to his younger brother.

 

At the age of thirteen, Lovino realized something. If everyone would just be: _“Oh! Feli that painting is so cute!”, “Feli won the art contest! That’s my Grandson”, “Feli, let’s play together!”, “Feli, do you want to know how to cook pasta?”, “My, my, we have another genius Vargas here!”._ If everyone could only see his little brother and only acknowledge his little brother’s presence then…why does Lovino continue this useless existence of his?

 

His existence is lower than the dust in the wind. At least dusts could get even a little bit of recognition when it irritates the eyes. Lovino was avoided even when he resort to be annoying just to feel that he was not invincible, that he was a real breathing human being. That he was not just someone’s imagination.

 

At the age fourteen, Lovino just got tired of everything…no, he didn’t get tired actually. He became numb, he lost interest at anything. Huh…he was not really sure if this numbness started at this particular age or if it was already there longer than he cared. He would stare at the ceiling for long hours at night and he would be lucky if he could get a wink of sleep for an hour or two. Getting out of bed was torture, a pain that would not even register in his mind but he knew that the waking up process was such a drag. Why continue the day if it would always ended up as the same just like any other days? He was just functioning like a robot with a fix program.

 

At the age of fifteen…Lovino found himself taking a bath. He was alone in the house and decided that it would not be bad to take a warm bath for an hour or two, right? So he was there, body submerged in the water and only his head floated so he would not drown himself accidentally. He did not fancy dying due to drowning and he was sure that his natural reflexes would prevent him from drowning in the first place. He lifted up his arms and stared intently at his unmarred skin, particularly the wrists. He wondered that time…why most suicide stories he used to read always the ones where the character cut their wrist and died from blood loss, or drinking a lot of pills, or the usual jumping off high places, or the classical ones: dying from asphyxiation? He just wondered…and this wonderings led him to try. If he will die then that was a bonus for him. Getting up from his warm bath was too much trouble for him though.

 

And then an idea struck him. It’s been a long time since he cut his nails.

 

The next thing he knew was that he heard voices, arguing to each other. At first it was muffled and Lovino thought that whatever happened to him was still making him dizzy. But as he was dragged to the land of the living the words started to make sense in his brain.

 

“—ether you like it or not I will take Lovino under my custody!”

 

“What makes you think I will allow you to do such thing?!”

 

“I’m his Uncle, and I am sure the court will back me up! Especially after this incident! You can’t take care of two children, not if you will play favoritism!”

 

Lovino didn’t want to hear what they were arguing about anymore and since he was still between the spell of sleep and the antidote of consciousness… he decided that it was not bad to be enveloped by the spell again.

 

When he was strong enough he was taken home by his Uncle Antonio. No, not Grandpa’s home but Uncle Antonio’s home.

 

They asked him why he tried to kill himself and he told them that he was not. They asked him why he wounded his skin and he told them that he wanted to test out if what he had read in the stories were true. After receiving faces of disappointments and pity the doctors decided to keep him under ‘suicide watch’ for a while, just to make sure that Lovino would not make an attempt again. When it was deemed that he won’t try anymore, Uncle Antonio greeted him in his room and said that from that day on they would start living together.

 

The technicalities were a blur for Lovino and frankly, he didn’t care at all. Feliciano did not need him in the first place anymore. Actually, Lovino thinks he was a mistake. Maybe he was not supposed to be born at all and because of this mistake his little brother was sent down from the heaven in order to fix it.

 

So Lovino’s existence was a very grave mistake.

 

The day that the papers about the custody was about to reached its last stages, Lovino asked his Uncle to do something for him.

 

Uncle Antonio asked him multiple times if he was sure and Lovino always answered him that, yes, he was positively sure and nothing could change his mind. No one could make him change his mind about this particular thing.

 

At the age of fifteen, Lovino Vargas died.

 

At the age of fifteen, the world welcomed Flavio Fernandez Carriedo.

 

-/-

 

Flavio Fernandez Carriedo was a confidant boy. Stylish, bold, flirtatious, happy. He was everything Lovino had ever wanted to be and soon, the name ‘Lovino’ was lost to Flavio. Nothing but a distant memory. A bad dream. Flavio lived with his Papa, the man he had known once upon a dream as ‘Uncle Antonio’, in his happy home in Spain. He went to school and learned Spanish and acted as the normal kid he never could have been before. People liked him in Spain and he liked the people in return. He no longer resorted to hatred and closing people out. Everything from before had been shed away with his old identity. Usually an old life couldn’t have been forgotten so quickly, but there was something about this new one to Flavio that made it so easy to forget. Instead of blocking out the people around him, he blotted out the past.

 

Flavio was friends with everyone, though he did not grow particularly close to anyone single person. Perhaps that was a side effect from his past life, but the boy didn’t mind all too much. He had his Papa to keep him company on the days when he wasn’t out with a loose group of friends or in school. His Papa and him were closer than anyone Flavio had ever had the pleasure, or displeasure, of knowing.

 

About a year after Lovino had disappeared, Flavio approached a new topic with Antonio. It was something he had been thinking about for a while by then. He had no idea how his Papa would react to such a request, though it wasn’t a terribly life altering choice as the last had been, but he was still nervous to ask. Everytime he looked in the mirror he never saw himself though. He saw _him_. The one he had been before. The weak one. The broken one. The one he wanted to forget. He saw Lovino, and Flavio couldn’t stand seeing those eyes and that face and that hair. That was the reason for Flavio’s new change. There wasn’t much he could do about the sight he saw in the mirror, but there was one thing he had been contemplating for a while. One thing that could help.

 

“Papa, can I dye my hair?” Flavio asked out of the blue one day. They had been cooking dinner together like any night when he had sprung the question. Antonio had continued to poke at his frying tortilla, not even looking up. He seemed casual, but Flavio could hear a trace of worry in his voice when he replied.

 

“Sure, I don’t see the harm in it. Why do you want to dye it, though? You have great hair.”

 

Flavio had shrugged. “Just ‘cause, I guess.”

 

Antonio had looked over then, pursing his lips. “Alright.” He gave an encouraging smile and Flavio could tell he what he was thinking. He knew Flavio must have been remembering his days in Italy. He knew Flavio must have been thinking about Lovino.

 

“Okay.” Was all Flavio said in return before he went back to his own task. There had been no more talk of that until Flavio had come home later in the week with bright blonde hair. Despite the worry that Antonio had previously had though, his Papa had seemed quite thrilled when Flavio showed him. Flavio hadn’t lived with him for very long at that point, but at that moment he had known…

 

This was what a family was supposed to be like.

 

Years went on, of course. Flavio continued his education throughout high school, excelling in the classes he enjoyed and even doing well in the ones he would have preferred to never touch again. He went on dates like a normal teenager did and hung out with friends. He had movie nights with his Papa and took up design as a hobby. For his seventeenth birthday he got a sketchbook and finally decided that fashion design was what he wanted to pursue into his adult life. He wanted to learn everything he could about sewing and sketching and fabric and color. He worked relentlessly on his newfound passion and, by the time he was eighteen, he was designing his own clothes and accessories and had even commissioned a few projects for friends.

 

When it was time to apply for college at the end of high school, Flavio searched for the best school for design out there and, by some miracle, he was accepted. He earned various scholarships for his unique designs and by entering multiple contests. Flavio would be going to the best institute for design in the world at barely any cost, all because of his genius with a needle and thread and his keen eye for fashion.

 

And, so, when Flavio stepped on campus of the World Academy school in Switzerland for the first time, he couldn’t help the swell of pride that pounded in his heart. When Antonio embraced him in a gleeful hug, tears streaming down his face at his boy’s accomplishment, Flavio smiled a smile he hadn’t worn since he was young and naive. Out there where he stood only with his own accomplishments to hold him up, he felt free. Freer than even his home in Spain made him feel.

 

Because, at last, Flavio Fernandez Carriedo was his own person.

 

* * *

 

 

“Are you sure you will be alright, _mi hijo_? I don’t want you to get lost; the campus here is so big!” Flavio’s Papa asked for what seemed like the millionth time. Flavio rolled his eyes at the man’s perseverance.

 

“Yes, Papa. I’ll be fine, really. We already found my dorm number and I only have the one bag of luggage to take up.”

 

“Are you sure you wanted to pack so light, Flavio? You have so many articles of clothing you left behind in Spain. What if you get cold and need an extra pair of socks? What if you decide to wear those white pants of yours, but you left your red shirt at home? I know you love that outfit-” Antonio worried further, prolonging his time until he had to leave his son for so long. It would be the first time since Flavio had been fifteen that they would be apart for so long.

 

“I _said_ I’m fine, Papa. I told you, I’ll be designing plenty of new clothes while I’m here, so, even if I’ll miss my stuff from home, I’ll be making plenty to replace it.”

 

“But you’ll write to tell me if you need anything, right? I’ll send a package whenever you need me to.”

 

“No, I won’t send a letter. I’ll _text_ you. Like a normal person in the twenty-first century.”

 

“You’re so sarcastic, _mi hijo precioso_. I’m sure they will love you!” Antonio paused for a moment, holding Flavio at an arm’s length away from himself. Pride sparkled in his eyes. “You’re so grown up now, Flavio. I can’t believe it.”

 

Flavio shrugged, but didn’t hide the smile that was tugging at his lips.

 

Then Antonio patted Flavio’s back and dropped his arms. “Go get them! Kick college’s butt and show the world what design really is!”

 

“Thanks, Papa.” Flavio smiled outwardly. Once long ago he would never have been able to show emotions so openly. Now it was natural. Now being happy was something to be proud of for Flavio.

 

His Papa gave him one last hug before he turned and strolled away, turning back every now and again to see if Flavio was still there. Sure enough, Flavio watched him go the whole way. Once Antonio was out of sight, Flavio finally gripped the straps on his bag and turned on his heels, facing the apartment building that his dorm would be in. It was marked with a big letter D on the side to make it easier to identify. Flavio looked at the scrap piece of paper in his hand again to make sure he had the right number even though the digits were practically seared into his memory by now.

 

Building D. Apartment 4C.

 

Here he was. At last, Flavio had made it. What awaited him inside would possibly change his life forever… or, in the very least, change his school year.

 

So Flavio carried his feet forward, lugging the heavy bag with him. He had played off how heavy the thing was so that he could get Antonio to go. He loved his Papa, but this was something he wanted to do on his own. He wanted to face World Academy and all it had in store for him alone or perhaps with some friends he picked up along the way.

 

Would he make friends here? It was an odd notion to Flavio. He’d had many friends in Spain, but none of them had been close at all. He’d always had Antonio, but now his Papa wasn’t anywhere around. He was on the other side of Europe and a tolled call away. Video chat was free, but Flavio knew he wouldn’t have time for that every night when he’d have busy college life to attend to. That left the possibility of friends in this very school. Perhaps in his very dorm.

 

And he was about to meet them now.

 

Flavio was confidant, yes. Years of life in Spain had built that confidence. Without Spain though, old insecurities were slowly resurfacing. What if his roommates didn’t like him? What if they ignored him like Nonno had? What if-

 

Flavio froze. No, he would not think of his old life. He would _not._

 

Before he could think anymore, though, Flavio was standing in front of a door marked 4C. What the hell? When had he gone up the stairs? Oh right, he had taken the elevator…

 

Flavio gulped and reached for the doorknob. _Don’t think about it. Just go in._

 

The sight that greeted him once he entered the room was not what he had expected though. For one, he might have expected an empty room, devoid of any other items because no one else had entered the abode as of yet. For another, he might have expected one or even both of his roommates politely unpacking or even chatting with one another to get to know each other. A few items might have been about, but, all in all the room would have still looked sufficiently impersonal. For a last consideration, Flavio might have expected his roommates to be completely done unpacking, clothes away, luggage tucked under beds, books lined against their individual desks.

 

Seeing the room in absolute shambles had not been on any of the considerations Flavio had thought of. Clothes littered everywhere on the floor, books looked to have been knocked over from the desk, bed spreads were balled up and thrown across the room. And, in the midst of it all, two other boys stood, frantically whizzing about to clean it all.

 

One of the boys stopped momentarily when Flavio walked in. Flavio blinked and paused when he noticed the boy was an albino, with white hair, red eyes, and pale pale skin. Flavio had never seen an appearance so… compelling before. His mind immediately went to different fabrics and hues that would compliment the boy, many of them ones that he would have never considered for anyone else.

 

“Roommate number three has arrived.” The red-eyed boy said, a wicked grin on his face, then immediately going back to his frenetic tidying. At his words, though, the other boy stopped.

 

“Oh, hey.” He smiled softly and Flavio’s eye for design picked up on the cues in the boy’s appearance that made him unique right away. The boy was soft, for lack of a better term. His hair was a downy blonde with a single loose hair springing away from the rest as if in an uncharacteristic act of rebellion. He was surprisingly tall for someone so transparent, though Flavio hated to label someone in such a way. He didn’t know how else to describe it though. Lovino had been invisible for a good part of his life enough for Flavio to know what it was like, even if he didn’t associate with it anymore.

 

The last thing Flavio noticed was the boy’s eyes, which was strange for the designer, for he usually looked for eye color first. Eye color was a key aspect in a person’s individual colors, after all. This boy’s eyes were hard to notice though, but, when they were, they were definitely hard to forget. His eyes were violet. The fainter parts of the iris seemed so light they could possibly be blue, but when one looked closer they could see a magical mixture of lavender and dark plum. It was quite entrancing and Flavio wondered if the boy would let him get closer - maybe he could commit it to memory and find a dye that particular shade. Perhaps the boy would let him design for him sometime during the semester. He would love to do so - for either of his new roommates.

 

Oh, wait. They were his new roommates. He didn’t even know their names yet! Going a little fast, Flavio.

 

“Hello.” Flavio greeted, pushing his racing thoughts to the side in order to pretend he was a normal person who was now the third roommate of this dorm. By the looks of it, he was quite possibly the most normal of the three at the moment. Flavio wondered if that would last very long though.

 

The purple-eyed boy stepped forward, over a large pile of clean, yet wrinkled shirts. He held out his hand, “I’m Matthew.”

 

Flavio took Matthew’s hand. “Flavio.” He introduced himself. Matthew smiled and Flavio felt a little more at ease.

 

Then the other boy jumped in, breaking Matthew’s and Flavio’s hands apart and holding out his own arm. “And I am the Awesome Gilbert! Mr. Awesome is fine, though!”

 

Matthew took on with an amused smirk, “You can’t expect us to actually _call_ you that.” Hm, apparently the kid wasn’t as soft as Flavio had thought.

 

“If he wants to be called ‘Mr Awesome’ then why shouldn’t we? It seems only fair.” Flavio spoke up, his own grin adorning his face.

 

Gilbert laughed, “I like you, man. What’s your name again?”

 

“Flavio.” Flavio responded again. He was reminded of a time long ago when he had first used that name.

 

_“My name’s Flavio.”_

 

_“What? No, but your name is Lovino. You can’t just change your name like that.”_

 

_“I prefer Flavio though. Why can’t I change it if I like it that way better?”_

 

_“Because you can’t! You’re Lovino. That’s the name your mama gave you, right? Don’t you like your mama?”_

 

He had been fifteen, but apparently no age was the limit for when one could cry in front of a schoolmate. Yes, he loved his mother. He had loved her more than anything. But just because she had named him Lovino didn’t mean he had to keep it, right? She wouldn’t have wanted him to keep a name that caused him so much pain, would she?

 

When he had come home after that he hadn’t talked to Antonio for the whole night. A few days later he had asked his Papa if he could legally change his name.

 

“Alright,” Gilbert was talking again and Flavio snapped out of his thoughts, “So we got Flavio, Mr Awesome, and Birdie over here.”

 

Matthew sputtered for a moment at that comment. “W-w-what?!? B-Birdie? Where in the world did you get that?”

 

“Because your hair’s soft,” Gilbert proceeded to pet Matthew’s head, like he was some small creature, “Like a baby bird.”

 

Matthew’s face became red and he swatted Gilbert’s hand away.

 

Gilbert snickered and turned back to Flavio. “You want a nickname? We both got one.” Gilbert pointed his thumb between himself and Matthew.

 

“I’m _not_ calling you ‘Mr Awesome’.” Matthew stated, but Gilbert ignored him, waiting for Flavio’s answer. Flavio just shook his head.

 

“Just Flavio is fine.” He responded. _I prefer Flavio…_ Flavio flinched again at the memory and shook it off.

 

“Alright! The Roommates of 4C: Meeting One can adjourn. Thank you all for participating and, please, no bringing home one-night-stands. The room’s cramped as it is.”

 

“Something tells me that the people who should be worried about that would be _us_.” Matthew retorted.

 

“Oh, I didn’t take you for the judgy type, Birdie.”

 

“What? No, I’m-”

 

“Come on, guys! Let’s get this dump cleaned before the RA pays a visit.”

 

Gilbert sprang into action, ignoring the protests from Matthew that he was not listening and began to clean with surprising speed. Flavio exchanged a look with Matthew, who had an exasperated expression on his face. Flavio just shrugged and went to help his loud roommate with cleaning the room for whatever reason it had been trashed in the first place. After not too long Matthew sighed and went to help as well.

 

It wasn’t quite Spain, but, as he picked random articles of clothing off of the floor, cleaning alongside his new roommates and friends, Flavio thought that perhaps he could learn to call this place home too.


	2. Chapter 2

 

First day of school, Flavio found out, was something he didn’t really look forward to. Oh, sure he love meeting new people and making new friends but there was this feeling that never left him ever since his Papa had adopted him.

 

There was this one word that keeps echoing in his mind whenever he introduced himself to strangers.

_Liar_

 

“Hola! My name is Flavio Fernandez Carriedo!”

_Liar. Liar._

 

“Yes! I do live in Spain my whole life before I enter here in World Academy.”

_Liar. Liar. Liar._

 

“Hm? I only have Papa. His name is Antonio! Although he loves cute stuff a bit too much but he is still a caring Papa!”

_Liar. Liar. Liar. Liar._

 

Flavio was not liar. This was a phrase he kept repeating to himself whenever that accursed word started echoing around his head.

 

His name is indeed _Flavio._ He did live in _Spain_ his _whole life_. He really has only his _Papa._

He said this over and over again while pretending that he never saw a silhouette of a fifteen year old boy with dark brown hair, frowning at him but not saying a thing.

_Lovino was long ago dead so Flavio would never be a liar._

_Liar. Liar. Liar. Liar…. **LIAR**._

 

* * *

 

 

Having Matthew Williams and Gilbert Beilschmidt as roommates was not that bad as he initially thought. It was also a relief that his initial fears were not proven. As it turned out, Matthew and Gilbert met each other when they, literally, collided to one another while searching for their dormitory room. Since they found out that they were both looking for the same place they decided that it would be easier to go there together.

Matthew always gave the impression of being a softie at heart but Flavio heard from his Canadian friend that years and years living with an obnoxious brother who had the tendency to ignore his ideas made him patient around those type of persons, Matthew also know when to whack them on the head when their annoyance level were getting out of hand.

 

“Just because people always tend to ignore me whenever my brother is around, or mistook me as him, doesn’t mean that I can’t protect or prove myself when the chance arises.” Matthew smiled at him one night when he was drying his soft blond hair.

 

Flavio wouldn’t dream to contradict Matthew’s statement. Especially when they toured the campus and found out that there was a Hockey club. He still has shivers running down his spine whenever he remembered the personality switch Matthew had when he entered the rink.

 

Gilbert, despite his egoistic front, seemed like someone you could count on once he added you to his list of friends. Truly, you should never judge a book by its cover. Anyone would assume at first that Gilbert was the typical boy who was a slob but when you were living in the same room with him? Oh, you were in a surprise for their red eyed roommate was a total clean and orderly person to the point of dubbing it as an OCD.

 

“Ha! You should meet my brother then if you think I’m a clean freak! West is much worse than me, kesese!”

 

The three of them only met each other for a week but Flavio would like to think that they already form a bond. He didn’t know though if he wanted this friendship to solidify into something or be like a silk gently passing on his skin but never truly grasping it.

 

Maybe…he would just let this friendship flutter like a butterfly for now…

 

And stir the conversations about perfectly annoying little brothers away.

_(Feliciano…)_

 

* * *

 

 

“Ah!” Flavio exclaimed around the empty room when a sudden thought occurred to him.

 

Gilbert and Matthew were both out and volunteered to buy their dinner since it was a Sunday night, which meant that it was the end of the first week. They both gave their opinion about surveying the town surrounding the school. For Matthew, it was that he wanted to find a place where he could have a peace of mind aside from the Academy’s library. For Gilbert, he just wanted to find all the ‘fun’ parts of the city. Flavio didn’t dare to ask Gilbert for clarification about the ‘fun’ part.

 

Now that he was alone and he already wrote the last words in order to finish his essay, this means that he was task free. Looking at the clock it showed that it was just eight in the evening, and since it was Sunday this meant that his Papa was just lounging in the living room.

After sending a quick text to his Papa, Flavio cleaned up his table and plugged his laptop. He was thankful that there was a strong connection within the dormitories wifi. Waiting for a clear connection, Flavio tapped his nails on the table until the screen showed the face of his happy-go-lucky father.

 

“Flavio! _Mi hijo!_ How are you doing!” not a second to loose, his Papa Antonio started doting on him. This sent bells of laughter from Flavio’s throat. Seeing such a familiar face was such a relief for him.

 

“Papa! It’s nice to see you again!” he sighed in relief and amusement when he saw his father adjusted the camera.

 

He remembered the day his Papa welcomed him in his humble abode in Spain. It took him also a week to settle down in his new surroundings. At first he was so unused from the attention he was getting from the older Spaniard. No one showered him with so much affection in a form of hugs, kisses on the head, pats on the head or back on whether he did something good or he just needed comforts, the way his Papa taught everything he knew around the kitchen.

 

Oh, the huge smile was forever engraved in Flavio’s mind when he presented his first home cooked pizza he had created all by himself.

 

…and he also remembered the sorrowful surprised painted on his Papa’s face when he had requested about legally changing his name.

_“Why?”_

_“I want to be Flavio.”_

_“Are you sure?”_

_“Yes…”_

_“…okay.”_

 

He knew that Papa had a lot of questions swirling inside his head when he made such a request, wish, command or whatever you wanted to call it. Maybe he was being selfish, maybe he was throwing away one of the proofs of his mother’s love, maybe he was just a coward after all. But whatever it was, he wanted to forget Lovino’s existence. Preferably, forever.

 

Lovino was now six feet under the ground.

 

And yes, the fifteen year old boy he always saw from the corners of his eyes was just his imagination, nothing more and nothing less.

 

The day the documents were to be legalized, he was asked again by his Papa.

_“You’re name will be ‘Flavio Fernandez Carriedo’ after this, are you sure you still want to do this?”_

_“I do.”_

 

It was a promise, it was a curse. The erased name was not mentioned anymore inside their home and Flavio changed schools so that he could start anew.

 

And he was happy, he created his own magic spell. His spell was the new name. He was finally welcomed where he was.

 

Smiles replaced his frowns, politeness replaced his potty mouth, gracefulness replaced his crass attitude.

 

And what made him happiest the most?

 

Was that _everyone_ loves him.

 

So why did he always found himself staring in front of the mirror every night with such miserable eyes?

 

“So? Tell me about your week! Come on~ Papa misses you~”

 

“Yes, yes, now stop talking like that or someone might think you are doing something kinky.” Flavio wriggled his eyebrow to emphasize his point. Oh, now who was the one who looked like a tomato? He laughed when his Papa tried to say something coherent.

 

“How can my words be taken as such!”

 

“Papa, relax! I’m just joking!”

 

“Why you…Flavio stop teasing your poor old man!”

 

“What’s this? Our studious and politely flirty Flavio is laughing so carefree?! Who made you lose all your inhibitions without even an ounce of alcohol?!” he heard the banging of the door before the exclamation made sense in his mind. He flinched a bit and turned around in a split second. Lo and behold, Gilbert Beilschmidt was standing right there with plastic bags on both hands. It was so comical, like a scene you would usually see in the books, oh wait…it was called manga now that Flavio remembered it correctly.

 

Matthew followed after their loudmouth friend and roommate. He surveyed the scene before him first and when he realized what was happening he pressed a palm on his forehead and whacked the back of Gilbert’s head with the other.

 

“What was that for, Birdie!”

 

“Shut up, Gil. Can’t you see that Flavio is talking to someone?”

 

“Oh?” to confirm the statement, Gilbert fully entered the room and stopped just beside Flavio to the point that the camera caught his features also making him visible to the person on the other end, “Wow, I never thought you have a boyfriend, Flavio.”

 

“I—wha—no—EXCUSE ME?!”

 

“Ahaha! You look like a tomato, Flavio~”

 

“You’re not helping, Papa!” he was embarrassed to admit it but Flavio did indeed gave out a ‘manly’ shriek.

 

“Wait, he is your father?!”

 

“Oh my goodness, Gil, I told you to be careful what you say!” Matthew joined the conversation also and now the three of them could be seen to the other side of the video.

 

“Okay, I think I embarrassed my son enough for today.”

 

“Papa…” Flavio groaned in defeat and covered his face using the table.

 

“No, seriously, you’re his father? You look so young!”

 

“Aw, thank you. I’m flattered that you think so!”

 

“…I’m too sober for this.” Matthew muttered and Flavio was tempted to agree with him.

 

* * *

 

 

Antonio turned off the computer after the conversation had ended. He was happy that his adopted son was settling just fine in his college life. Maybe meeting people from all over the world would do Flavio some good.

 

He frowned a bit when he remembered the start of this whole mess. Yes, he was happy that Flavio was able to smile and get along with everyone but how much of it was real? How much of it was forced? How long will he run away from his past?

 

Flavio was still young and like any other young mind, he thought he could escape the nightmare he decided to lock up and threw the key in an unending abyss.

 

Antonio’s eyes surveyed the living room. The pictures covering the walls all depicted a blond young man with him. From the one taken in his own tomato garden up to the high school graduation. There was no any sign of a dark brown haired teenager that first step in his home and awkwardly stood in the middle of the hall until Antonio guided him towards his new room.

Was it right that he had allowed Lovino to abandon everything and created a new persona? Was it right for him to support such a decision? Was it right not seeking for professional help?

 

Indeed, Antonio was skeptical in having someone analyzing his adopted son. How do they know they had read the child justifiably? He feared that they would made a wrong diagnosis and gave him pills that would make the fragile mind of Lovino…no _Flavio,_ much worse than before. But…was his fear right to overrule his judgments?

 

There was no going back now though.

 

He just hoped that when something major happened was that he would be there to support his adopted son.

 

The ringing of the phone shattered his musings. He stood up and answered the device hanging on the wall just beside the living room entrance.

 

“Hola!”

 

“Ciao, Uncle Antonio!”

 

Oh, yeah this was part of his daily routine ever since Flavio left their home. Maybe there was someone out there not wanting this two to meet in any way possible.

 

“Feli! How are you? Still cute as ever?” but Antonio was famous about his dumb façade.

 

“I’m fine, ve! Is my _Fratello_ there? Can I talk to him?”

 

“Feli…”

 

“Oh…he is still not there, ve? Where is he, Uncle Antonio? It’s been a week now.” The voice got lower and sadder in each sentence.

 

“You know I can’t tell you that.”

 

“But—ve…Okay, I’ll call again tomorrow…”

 

“Feli?”

 

“Yes, Uncle Antonio?” he hated the small hope he had detected from the voice because it meant that he was about to break it right now.

 

“Maybe…you should stop looking for your brother. He does not want to see you again.”

There was silence from the other line for a moment before Antonio was graced with a venomously response.

 

“Did he say that?”

 

“Well…not verbally but—”

 

“Unless he says it to me face to face that he does not want to see me anymore then I will continue searching for him. He is my _Fratello._ Goodnight, Uncle Antonio.”

The silence of the cut off line gave such an ominous feeling to Antonio.

 

* * *

 

 

Flavio looked in the mirror for what seemed the millionth time since he had arrived over two weeks ago at World Academy, displeased with the appearance before him. He hadn’t thought about this so insistently in years, but recently, as he was no longer in Spain, now in uncharted territory, old thoughts were resurfacing. He looked at his face. The angles and lines. He pinched at his blonde hair and squinted at his dark brown eyes. He lifted his face in various directions, watching as his features shifted in the mirror. It was all very familiar, as it had been these past years.

 

But there was also a familiarity beyond those years. Lovino frowned in that mirror as Flavio tried his best to see anything else. Flavio smiled, but it turned into his old grimace. His eyebrows furrowed and his blonde hair fell in his face. Lovino was there where ever he looked and that terrified Flavio.

 

He looked deep into the reflection’s eyes. He had always had such depth to those irises. Anyone could read what lie there. Lovino had been an open book no matter how hard he’d tried to hide. Flavio found himself blocked away from others no matter how hard he tried to connect. And there, in the depths of those brown irises, the two fought for control. Flavio wanted to hide those eyes. They didn’t belong to him, even though they had been set to his person for years. They were Lovino’s, always had and always would be.

 

Flavio shook his head. What was he doing thinking of that boy again? That boy didn’t exist. Lovino Vargas was dead.

 

So why had he become so alive these past weeks?

 

Lovino’s memory was everywhere and recollections from the boy’s past seemed to be ingrained into Flavio’s skull. They were etched into his skin.

 

Flavio tore his eyes away from the mirror and walked out of the bathroom. He had work to do and had no time for such things. Only two weeks into the semester and he was already swamped with work; how could he just waste away his time in front of a mirror like that? People would start calling him a narcissus.

 

Flavio sat down cross-legged on top of his bed. Since three people shared a room, there was one bunk bed and one single bed. Flavio had always been fascinated with bunk beds, so he had asked for the top bunk. Neither Gilbert not Matthew had had anything against it, so now there he was, comfortably on his elevated bed with his sketchbook propped in his lap.

 

Before starting on his project for the day, Flavio took a look around. The room, despite its initial appearance on the first day, was actually very orderly. If anyone was the slob in the room, it was Flavio with his unkempt bed and disorganized papers skewed across his desk. His clothes were the only thing he took pride in keeping nice and they hung in the closet with extreme care.

 

The blankets on his bed were balled towards the foot of it and various pillows lined the wall where his bed and it connected. Flavio loved sleeping buried in a mound of pillows. It felt secure. It felt like he was falling to sleep in a big hug.

 

On the wall beside his bed he had hung a handful of photos with tape. Most of them were of him and his Papa Antonio, but a couple were cut outs from magazines, showcasing the latest styles. Flavio traced his fingers over one, his most recent inspiration. It was what he'd gotten the new idea for his semester project from.

 

With this picture fresh in mind, Flavio looked back down at his sketchbook. He'd used at least twenty new pages trying to construct the perfect new outfit, one that would fit the vision he was imagining. Every time, though, it turned out wrong. He couldn't figure out what about it was throwing it off, but it frustrated him every time. He'd almost torn out his latest design because of how angry he had gotten at it, but he'd calmed himself down soon enough. He _never_ threw away a design. There was always something to be learned from it, so he kept every one.

 

Flavio tapped his pencil against the blank page a few times, clearing his head of everything but his vision. This would be it. He would get it right this time, he just knew it.

 

So Flavio set to work. He penciled and sketched and shaded and drew delicate curves and rough edges. He didn't even notice when Gilbert loudly entered the dorm, throwing his schoolbag onto his own bed which was the single one across the room.

 

Gilbert knew better than to disturb Flavio while he was working, even if it had been only two weeks since they'd met. It wasn't until a frustrated groan from the top bunk resounded throughout the room that Gilbert took his cue to speak up.

 

“Flavio, let’s go eat! I'm hungryyyy!” Gilbert complained, hoping his friend wouldn't pitch his book across the room. It hadn't happened yet, but Gilbert was convinced it would soon.

 

“Shouldn't we wait for Matthew?” Flavio asked, snapping shut his sketchbook and throwing it down to his desk. Gilbert didn't even flinch when he heard its thud.

 

“Nah, Birdie’s got a late class. He’ll be back in a few hours.” Gilbert was laying on his bed, staring at the ceiling while he talked. Flavio shrugged.

 

“Alright, let's go.”

 

At this, Gilbert jumped up. “Really? Alright!”

 

Flavio jumped down from his bed and slipped on a pair of shoes. He wondered aloud what the commons would be serving that night.

 

“I hope it's something good. Like wurst or pancakes.” Gilbert piped up.

 

“Aren't pancakes Matthew’s favorite?” Flavio inquired.

 

Gilbert blushed. “Well, yeah. I can like 'em too, can't I?”

 

Flavio smirked at his friend. “Of course. Whoever said you couldn't?”

 

“Yeah.” Gilbert nodded, turning his head to avoid eye contact. “Right.”

 

The two walked in silence until they finally arrived at the commons. Flavio took a look around and decided to go for the salad bar. One could never go wrong with salad. Or churros. But they weren't serving churros there.

 

“Salad? Ew. No thanks.” Gilbert scrunched his nose when he saw where Flavio was heading. “I'll meet you at a table. I'm going to get pizza or something.”

 

Flavio was the first to arrive at the table as most students didn't frequent the salad bar. Flavio had zipped through the line in a flash and claimed a table for him and Gilbert in no time.

 

While Flavio waited for his friend he started to poke at his salad. He wasn't very hungry today, especially with the fact lingering over his head that he had failed to create his new project on paper once again that afternoon. He caught a glimpse of himself in the glass of water that sat beside his tray.

 

Deep, dark, brown eyes. The endless abysses that haunted his dreams.

 

He hated his face. He hated how he looked. He had looked at plastic surgery as an option in a moment of desperation a few days ago but had immediately decided against it. He didn't know what to do, but he didn't want that to be his solution. Besides, it was much too expensive for someone like him.

 

He could use makeup to contour his features differently. Makeup could make one into a completely different person if they wanted. It could work for Flavio.

 

But there were still his eyes. The unchanging reminders that always stared back at him in the mirror. They would always be there, wouldn't they?

 

“Whatcha thinking about, man?” Gilbert asked as he sat down with his tray. He'd gotten a pepperoni pizza for himself and now lounged out in the stiff cafeteria chair across from Flavio. Flavio shook his head.

 

“Nothing.”

 

“It isn't about your project, is it? I'm sure you'll get it soon, man. Just take your time. Rushing won't get you anywhere.” Gilbert waved his hand and went to pick up his pizza.

 

Flavio was still thinking. Gilbert eyes were so solid. They had one layer and that was all you were going to get. Any emotion that hid behind them were well guarded. He always seemed so happy and carefree, not all mood swingy like Flavio. His eyes made it perfect for him to hide behind.

 

Was it the person themselves that made their eyes take on such a steady look or was it the eyes that hid it? Did the color hide all of Gilbert’s secrets? What if Flavio could change his eyes like that? What would _he_ look like with maroon eyes? Or violet like Matthew?

 

What if he could change his eyes?

 

Flavio gasped then and stood from his seat, looking down at his friend with his newly formed idea.

 

Gilbert looked slightly alarmed. “You alright, man? What is it?”

 

“I've got it!” He exclaimed, a giddy look on his face.

 

Gilbert’s eyes took on a twinkle. A mischievous look replaced the surprise and it looked like he was ready to get up to no good. “What? What have you got?”

 

“Contacts!” Was all Flavio said before he rushed out of the commons, leaving a highly confused Gilbert behind. Flavio’s mind was set though and he didn't look back. Without having touched his food, Flavio left the cafeteria and bolted to their dorm, finding it empty as he had expected.

 

Flavio grabbed his computer and leaped up to his bunk, throwing it open and beginning his search.

 

He was a man with a plan and no one could stop him when he was so set on something. So when Gilbert ran into the room only a few minutes later, he immediately knew after a few words with the boy that Flavio would not be taking his eyes from that laptop until he had completed his mission.

 

When Matthew came back Flavio was still hunched over his laptop’s screen, eyes alight in the glow of the electronic's glare. He had looked over to Gilbert who only shook his head.

 

“I guess Flavio’s gone from the world for the evening?” Matthew asked, an amused smile on his face.

 

Gilbert shrugged. “Looks to be so.”

 

Matthew laughed. “What are we going to do about it, eh?”

 

“Right.” Gilbert sighed, “The kid still owes me a pizza though.”

 

The night was dark already and the dorms around them had probably already gone to sleep (though who knew with college students). But the dorm of 4C stayed awake for hours after, Gilbert and Matthew chatting and, finally, Flavio coming out of the entrapment of his research.

 

Flavio told them his idea and, as supportive friends did, they encouraged it. It wasn't self-destructive as far as they were concerned and Flavio seemed really set on the idea.

 

Now the three lounged on Gilbert's bed, as tight of a fit as it was. They all leaned against the wall, their legs overlapping for some reason. The room was dim with only the lamp in the corner providing light and by the time the night was old and the morning new, the three were leaning against each other as they spoke in mumbled tones.

 

“You know,” Matthew said after a while of simply talking about school, “My brother got accepted here but he decided to go to university over in America. It's the first time I've ever really been without him. Have I ever told you that we’re twins?”

 

“You have a twin? Woah, that's awesome.” Gilbert said, calmer than Flavio had ever seen him. It must have been the lateness or the dim of the room.

 

Matthew nodded. “Most people wouldn't even think it because we're so different, despite the fact that we’re identical.”

 

“Really?” Flavio asked, a little absent-mindedly, “What's he like?”

 

“Loud.” Was the first thing Matthew said, then he laughed, “Confidant. Well-liked.”

 

“Hey! You're well-liked! I bet I could ask anyone and they'd say they like you.” Gilbert interrupted.

 

Matthew rolled his eyes, but he looked rather flattered, “Most likely no one would actually remember me. And if they did, they'd say they liked me because it’s polite.” Matthew sighed, then looked up at Gilbert with a smirk, “Like how I say I like you. It's only polite, Gilbert.”

 

“Don't even go there, Birdie. I know you like me! Everyone likes the Awesome Gilbert!”

 

“Of course, Mr Awesome,” Matthew flicked his hand in a flippant way, “How could I ever forget?”

 

“You called me it! Did you hear that, Flavio? Please, tell me someone got that on video!”

 

“Unless you've got the room bugged - which I really hope you don't out of concern for more than just this - you have _no proof_!”

 

“Aw, come on! Say it again! Please? Pretty please? I've got my phone out now!”

 

Matthew only shook his head, “No. Nope. I'm not doing it.”

 

Flavio watched with amusement in his eyes. Slowly, as he watched and he was more sure that the other two were more preoccupied with each other, Flavio let his smile slip off of his face. It wasn't that he was unhappy or anything. He was just thinking. Something had been nagging at the back of his head.

 

What was it like to have a twin?

 

The question hit too close to home for Flavio and he couldn't remember why. If he thought long enough he was sure he could uncover it, but when he thought too much about it he could feel his old features resurfacing across his face. Flavio shook his head and focused back on his friends.

 

“Well, I have a brother too.” Gilbert finally let the subject drop about getting Matthew on video calling him awesome. “And he's definitely going to get into this school when the time comes. He's the smartest kid I know.”

 

“How about you, Flavio? Do you have any siblings?” Matthew asked and Flavio almost made the mistake of frowning again. Why was it he had been doing that so much lately?

 

He shook his head.

 

“Oh, alright. What's it like being an only kid?” Matthew asked helpfully.

 

Flavio shrugged, “I don't know. I guess it's always just been me and my Papa.”

 

“I know what that's like.” Gilbert chipped in, “Our mom died when we were young. Ludwig and I grew up only with our Vater.”

 

The group was silent for a bit. They had been awake for a while and, while they all seemed to have stayed up without trouble, they were now drifting off. Flavio had a class in the morning, but he could already feel that he would be sleeping in instead.

 

When Flavio looked over at his friends, he found that they had both fallen asleep, Matthew with his head on Gilbert’s shoulder and Gilbert's own on top of Matthew's head. Softly, Flavio chuckled and leaned his head back against the wall.

 

He dreamed of Matthew and his twin that night who, in his mind’s eye, looked exactly like his brother, appearance, demeanor, and all. He dreamed of Gilbert asking over and over again, “Call me awesome! Call me awesome!” He dreamed of dark deep brown eyes and a frown.

 

By the morning, Flavio forgot this too, but he also dreamed of a person similar in look to Lovino. Lighter hair. An easier smile. He was asking him something, but Flavio couldn't make it out. He kept repeating it and repeating it and repeating it until Flavio got it.

 

“Lovino?”

 

* * *

 

 

“Hey, Papa.” Flavio said into the computer screen, once again video chatting with Antonio. It had become a habit to do so every Sunday evening before the business of the week started and after the laziness of the weekend ended. Flavio fidgeted with the ends of his shirt as he awaited his Papa’s reaction. Flavio’s greeting had been confident enough, but in reality he was on edge. He wanted to know what his Papa would think.

 

“Hola, Flavio! Oh mio Dio, is the screen acting up or is something different about your eyes?” Antonio's voice echoed through the speakers on his laptop. His Papa’s voice was clear, but Flavio still couldn't help the feeling that he sounded so far away.

 

“The screen is not acting up. I got contacts.” Flavio smiled excitedly, hiding how giddy it was he really felt, and leaning towards the camera, showing off the new irises. Antonio’s reaction had been one of surprise, unsurprising to Flavio, but he hadn't detected any traces of disapproval or concern.

 

Flavio looked at the tiny window at the bottom corner of his screen that showed himself. The first thing that had usually stood out about his person had always been his hair. The blonde paired with his olive complexion was an odd sight though Flavio still somehow managed to pull it off. Now, though, the eye catcher was in the actual eyes.

 

The color bounced right back to the viewer's sight. If that made any sense. That's at least what Flavio thought when he saw himself in the mirror or in that little window at the moment. He had wanted to do something bold and something not too dark. Flavio had browsed online for a very long time before he'd settled on these.

 

They were purple. No… pink? No. It was weird. They weren't natural, yet the way the hues mixed like watercolor was in itself a look more natural than some actual eye colors. Flavio would have been convinced they were his born irises if they weren't such a peculiar color.

 

Fuchsia and magenta swirled together in a bold and happy looking shade. Flavio loved that part of it especially. When people looked at him, they saw a cheery boy instead of the what he actually felt. People couldn't read him like an open book anymore. They couldn't see how lost he was. How much of a cheat and liar he felt. Flavio could relax in the knowledge that he and his secrets were secure.

 

“Contacts? You need glasses now? It's only been four weeks since you've been there! I feel like you're changing so quickly.”

 

Flavio smiled a secretive smile. Leave it to his Papa to worry about such a thing. “No, I don't need glasses.” Flavio instead decided to answer, “I got the contacts so I could change the eye color… Do you like it?”

 

Antonio blinked into the camera, absorbing the information. Flavio was a nervous wreck as he waited for his Papa’s reply. Then, as expected but still strongly hoped for, Antonio grinned his big goofy smile. “Do I like it? I love it, mi hijo! ¡Muy guapo! Why didn't you tell me before you wanted to get contacts?”

 

“Oh,” Flavio looked down, slightly embarrassed, but still relieved Antonio seemed to like his decision so much, “I wanted it to be a surprise.”

 

That was true enough. He had indeed wanted to see his Papa’s reaction to the sudden change. He left out the part, though, about wanting to make a decision not based on the one person who he had always been close to. It was healthy to want to do things yourself at times, right?

 

“It certainly is a surprise!” Antonio said, laughing, “My goodness, it'll take some getting used to, but it looks so nice! As long as this is what you want…”

 

He left the statement open, as if waiting for anything Flavio might want to add. Flavio didn't.

 

Antonio searched his face for a moment through the screen but sat back in disappointment. That's odd. If there was any a time to be disappointed, why was it now? Why did he have that resigned look on his face?

 

He had been trying to figure out Flavio, he realized. Flavio had failed to realize how much his Papa relied on his eyes to figure out what he was feeling as much as the others -probably more than the others. Antonio couldn't read Flavio just as Flavio had wanted from these contacts.

 

But had he wanted it to affect his relationship between he and his Papa like this?

 

Yes. Yes, this was perfect. Antonio wouldn't worry about him so much anymore, right? He could relax in the knowledge that he had a happy, or what seemed to be a happy son.

 

Flavio thought for a split second then settled on a smile, nodding his head at the image in his screen. He decided to answer him after all.

 

“Sí, Papa. This is definitely what I want.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We do not own Hetalia

**Chapter 3**

 

As the first semester came to an end, Flavio found out that the contacts improved his mental state a lot. Whenever he gaze in the mirror he no longer see the lingering memories of Lovino but just Flavio standing there being reflected by. Changing of hair and eye colors made a lot of difference for him and he never felt so complete to be his own self, just to be Flavio.

 

But there was still a small seed lying deep within his soul that sends him waves of unnecessary regrets sometimes. What was there to regret when he finally managed to have a solution?

 

His fleeting friendship also with Matthew and Gilbert finally came to an end and now they were one of those inseparable group of best friends who were also a trio of nerds in others opinions. Flavio made his name known in the department where he belongs and he even dragged his roommates in some of his inspirational sparks and make them his models. In just five months, Matthew and Gilbert had a number of outfits added in their luggage courtesy of their future fashion designer. Matthew got the attention of a lot of girls (and guys) in the Biology department due to his smarts and charms, also his fierce persona whenever he was in the ice rink (the Academy was seriously contemplating if they should make the Canadian the new team captain.). Gilbert, on the other hand, surprised a lot of people. As Flavio had said before, never judge a book by its cover. Because just like him, no one expected that the egoistic albino had the brains and the eyes to solve most of the difficult problems in the Engineering department. Sometimes both Flavio and Matthew asked Gilbert to help them in their own Math problems. He was also surprisingly patient when he was teaching them but Flavio has his suspicion that there was something going on between Gilbert and Matthew, at least in the side of their German friend because it was painfully obvious that their Biologist friend was not aware of the soft stares and smiles he was receiving.

 

Of course, Flavio realized that new people meant new information and mysteries to be answered.

 

One of these moments was when Gilbert was being talked down by a certain Hungarian woman about him being a nuisance to her ‘darling Roderich’. Flavio didn’t know what was the connection between this ‘Roderich’ and Gilbert but he was not about to stand there and let his friend be treated like that. Because Flavio knew that Gilbert was an annoyingly cheerful person but he also knew that the albino would never cause trouble to anyone and would gladly choose to keep his problems to himself (something both Flavio and Matthew noticed and gave the other a long lecture).

 

Oh sure, Flavio would never dreamt of hitting a woman physically or have a shouting match that would make him a bad guy but he sure knows the art of polite yet deadly verbal fights. It was a trick he learned while he was in Spain. Part of it was influenced by his Papa because his friend married a certain British man whom Antonio really hated. So for the sake of Antonio’s friend the two settled it to such a form of verbal fights.

 

Long story to short, Flavio pointed out to the woman how baseless her accusations were and how a good person Gilbert really was and how could she be blind to start such a rant in the first place. He was surprised when the woman whipped out a frying pan out of nowhere and was about to be hit if Gilbert didn’t caught her hand. Both of them were surprised, Flavio because that was the first time he witnessed the fast reflex reaction of the albino and it seemed that it was not a normal occurrence for the woman. With a cold gaze, Gilbert said to the woman that he was not letting her hurt one of his best friends just because she could not control her emotions and he was not joking this time about pressing charges. This made the woman back away with angered shame. The two of them went back to their room and pretended the events of the day didn’t happened.

 

They did address it the next day though when a knock was heard on their door. Flavio and Gilbert were the only people in their room at that time because Matthew had some laboratory activity needed to be finished (something about frogs and passing the practical exam for it). Gilbert was engrossed at a particular assignment of his so it was Flavio who opened the door to see who it was.

 

That was the day that he had briefly met the man named Roderich Edelstein and learned a few things or two about Gilbert.

 

“I’m sorry about her, Gilbert.”                                                                         

 

“Nah, it’s fine Roddy. You are a perfect man for her eyes. We don’t want to ruin it now, do we?”

 

There was a reason why Flavio was left inside the room and Gilbert closed the door so that his ‘cousin’ and he could talk alone. It was not his fault that he has sharp hearing in the first place (Gilbert and Roderich were talking in a minimum level so yes, he was eavesdropping.)

 

“I told her that you are the one who taught me everything I know about music.”

 

“Kesese, bet she was surprised.”

 

“She was, I’ve never seen her face so red.” Flavio noted that the voice appeared amused somehow. He didn’t know if he should feel sorry for the woman or justified because her judgmental mind finally saw its mistakes.

 

“Ha! I wish I could have seen that.”

 

There was a moment of silence.

 

“When are you going to make music again using your flute?”

 

“I’m busy, Roddy.”

 

“But—“

 

“See ya, cousin. Now, shoo and do whatever a music nerd like you usually do.”

 

There were a few protests but it seemed that Gilbert won in the end when not a minute or so he came back alone. Oh, Gilbert was no idiot so Flavio didn’t even bother to hide the fact that he was listening in their conversation just then.

 

They resumed what they were doing before the knock, Gilbert with the last questions in his assignment and Flavio reading the story of Achilles for his World Literature subject. The two of them just cuddled with the silence around the room when Gilbert started the conversation in a nonchalant way of his.

 

“When I was younger, my Vater used to take me at my Grandfather’s home. I used to call him Old Fritz because his name was Frederick.”

 

“Hm.” Flavio hummed to indicate that he was listening while pretending to look at the book he was reading and Gilbert was scribbling on his notebook. The used of past tense in the story was duly noted.

 

“I love hearing Old Fritz playing that flute of his. You see, I don’t have many friends when I was younger due to my albinism. My Mom was the very definition of overprotective mama bear when she was alive,” at this, Gilbert released an amused yet painful chuckle, “so in a sense, Old Fritz was my first friend. He was very important to me.”

 

“I don’t know when I specifically asked him but the next thing I knew I was reading the music notes like how you would read the letters in a book. It was really fun, especially when I saw how happy and relax Old Fritz was whenever I play while he was having his tea in the afternoon. He might prefer coffee but Vater banned him from it saying that it was bad for his health!” he laughed softly and Flavio noted that Gilbert was reminiscing the joyful days.

“Then Roderich and I met at Old Fritz’s home. Oh, I pestered and annoyed the young master because he was such a sheltered brat! Can you believe that he could not even put a bait in his own fishing rod?!”

 

Considering Gilbert’s attitude, Flavio would not be surprised if the said bait was a wriggling earthworm. With this idea in mind, he laughed a bit and tried to hide it using the book.

“Anyway, the thing that made us closer was music. Roddy was not really closed to Old Fritz and he was really shy but only a blind man would not see his interest whenever me or Old Fritz hold the flute.”

 

“So, you taught him?” Flavio finally added a few cents of his opinion.

 

“…yeah.”

 

“Hm?”

 

“He has talent, Flavio. Pure talent. I don’t even know why he kept asking lessons from me when he could have the best tutors in the world!”

_“Because you are his family, and it seems you are the only one who saw him as him.”_ This was the thought that appeared in Flavio’s mind and he wondered how such conclusion developed in the first place.

 

“His parents grabbed this opportunity and made Roddy to attend various competitions; his specialty is the piano by the way. That’s where Roddy met his ‘girlfriend’” Gilbert really did make quotation marks in the air when he said the word, “I told Roddy not to let anyone knows that I am the one who taught him what he knows in music.”

 

“Because?” Flavio raised an eyebrow.

 

“I have a reputation to keep!”

 

“Right.” He rolled his eyes because by reputation then it was clear to Flavio that Gilbert meant was his ‘bad boy’ appearance.

 

“…and then, three years ago…Old Fritz died. I stopped playing after that…”

 

There was an unsaid sentence lingering in the air and Flavio was sensitive enough to pick it up and read it using his mind’s eye.

_“I learned how to play because I want Old Fritz to hear it.”_

 

Flavio waited for a moment but it seemed the story telling time was currently over for now. From the way he saw how Gilbert pursed his lips it appears that he was waiting for some kind of response. Oh well, Flavio chose to shut the book with as much noise as he could and jumped down from his bed. With a few attempts in straightening the wrinkles on his clothes, he turned to Gilbert and simply said,

 

“I want ice cream. Buy me some ice cream.”

 

Gilbert stared at him incredulously before breaking in a fit of laughter.

 

“And why would I, Mr. Awesome, buy you some ice cream?” this was matched with a raised eyebrow.

 

Flavio huffed in a playful manner and pointed at himself, “Because you owe me for all the wonderful outfits you have in your closet. Also, I’m cute.”

 

“So unreasonable! Kesese!” but Gilbert followed out and the two of them walked side by side outside of the campus.

 

“Flavio?”

 

“Hm?”

 

“Thanks.”

 

“For what?”

 

“For not telling any lies. For just listening.”

 

And the comfortable silence embraced them again and they snuggled with it in contentment. Sometimes, all you need to do was just to listen. Listening could do a lot of wonders just like talking.

 

* * *

 

 

“Oui, Papa, everything is fine. No, I’m not being bullied here. Yes, I know…”

 

Flavio blinked a few times when he realized that Matthew was currently occupied in a video call. This was such a rare occurrence. Usually it was Flavio who was talking to his Papa face to face. Shrugging off the scene before him, he entered the room and was about to settle his bag on the bed when a loud shout stopped him.

 

“ _Mon Dieu!_ Is that Flavio?! How are you _mon lapin_?”

 

Spinning his head towards the screen, he saw a very familiar face.

 

“…Uncle Francis?”

 

“ _Oui!_ Antonio told me you are attending college now but he never mentioned that you will be in World Academy!”

 

Flavio tried and hoped that his forced chuckle appeared genuine as it could possibly be while rubbing his cheek in a display of awkwardness, “That’s Papa Antonio I guess, forgetting the most important part of the story.”

 

“Ohonhon, well, you’re right. That is Antonio for you. I wish I could stay and chat longer but Arthur needs my help! Goodbye for now, _mon chouchou,_ be sure to call more! Dad and I are worried! Have you called your brother yet?”

 

Flavio saw the hint of irritation flashed at Matthew’s eyes.

 

“Papa, you know I hate…”

 

“Your brother is worried about you, Matthew.”

 

“Yeah, tell that to me four years ago.”

 

Oh, it seemed like there was still a small dangerous fire between Matthew and his twin brother.

 

“…Matthew.”

 

“…I’ll try, maybe later.”

 

Francis sighed before returning his attention to the other occupant of his son’s room.

 

“Well! Take care of my son, Flavio!” with that, the call ended and Matthew stared at his roommate.

 

“I didn’t know you know Francis.”

 

“I didn’t know you are one of the adopted sons of Francis and Arthur.”

 

Which was weird because Matthew and Gilbert already met Antonio who were like a close family friend of Francis and …well Arthur was a bit questionable. Didn’t Francis share a bit of his life to his adopted children? And why haven’t Flavio saw any pictures of the twins from Francis whenever he visited? Come to think of it, Francis never mentioned any names also. His Uncle and Papa were weird in some ways more than one.

 

…and why Matthew never spoke about his family aside from mentioning of having an annoying twin brother?

 

So many mysteries but Flavio was not a privy person.

 

“Well, now we know. Want to grab some lunch?” Matthew, the ever loving soul that he was, hid his own laptop under the bed before grabbing his wallet and looking expectantly at Flavio.

 

“I would love to, I’m famished.”

 

 

* * *

 

Flavio was having a horrible day, if he was truly honest - something he normally didn't associate to his character. He lied to himself too often to feel like a candid person. But this day was frankly a horrid one. He had been late to a lecture and skipped lunch because he had fallen behind on an essay due that day that he had to finish up. Then, when the young designer had finally found time to himself he had gone to the campus green to relax and finally sketch out a new design. Just like he had toward the beginning of the last semester though, his brain was a storm cloud, throwing useless thoughts about and covering any original ideas with pointless ramble. His sketchbook was becoming quite thin as he crumbled up his designs, no longer caring about his past creations in his frustration.

 

Flavio had stalked around campus for a time after, trying to clear his head and failing. The previous semester had gone quite alright for his first one in university. Friendships had grown as Flavio had previously pondered. Exams had gone well and projects had finally been completed. Family had been visited during the break and Flavio had seen Papa and Spain and churros again. He'd stayed in contact with his two friends from the Swiss institute and excitedly returned to them as the second semester began.

 

Second semester was different. Classes seemed to snatch at him with clawed fingers, as if straight from a horror movie. The workload sat on his chest, suffocating him. While his academics required Flavio’s utmost attention and determination, his design needed a relaxed mind and a free imagination. The contrasts in his responsibilities wore away at him and it was barely a month into the semester. It was enough to make anyone’s head hurt and, in fact, Flavio had had ten too many headaches to accompany this cognitive dissonance.

 

And, at times such as these, old insecurities arose. _Lovino_ arose. Flavio no longer saw him in the mirror, yet this could not keep the boy’s emotions from tangling with Flavio’s at times. His stubbornness. His grumpy, moody spouts. His feelings of worthlessness and thoughts of never being good enough. Flavio would sink into this despair without a thought, then, when he had snapped back to his senses, he would feel icky and uncomfortable. Why did the boy’s feelings resurface after all of this time?

 

_Lovino Vargas doesn't exist anymore._ Flavio often reminded himself. _Lovino Vargas is_ dead.

 

Those reassurances were only a speck in the sea that the Italian boy created in his mind. It was as if Lovino were still there, consciously trying to make his life a living hell. But he knew what it was like in Lovino’s head and, though Flavio didn't doubt he would readily raise hell from beyond the grave, he knew it wasn't a conscious effort when these doubts haunted him.

 

_Disappointment. Failure. Unworthy._

 

**_Liar._ **

 

He hated this one. More than every other that crept into his mind and terrorized him to no end. This thought he loathed. He detested it. Despised it. Abhorred it.

 

This one was the worst because it wasn't Lovino whispering it in his head. It was his own thought echoing into his brain, repeating and repeating and never letting him go. His whole life was a lie. Everything he said and did. _Lie_. It wasn't true; it couldn't be. He was Flavio Fernandez Carriedo. _Lie_. He had lived in Spain for all of his life before he had come to World Academy. _Lie_. He only had his Papa. _Lie_.

 

“I am not a liar!” He yelled suddenly. The outburst broke him from his self-destructive thoughts and he looked up from where he had been clenching his blonde strands of hair hard enough that he wouldn't be surprised if he found flecks of red in them. His gaze lifted from the sidewalk beneath him to find himself near the campus dorms. Few students were milling about, but Flavio could tell he'd caught the attention of a couple of them. Red tinged his cheeks as he bowed his head and resumed walking. He must have subconsciously been going back to the dorm, so that was where he continued to now.

 

He could always count on his friends to distract him from the thoughts that spun endless in his head. He hadn't told them the ordeal he was going through - surprising, as he told the two everything - and he blamed Lovino for his secrecy as of late.

 

But also, he did not tell his friends his thoughts because they partially had to do with them. Don't get him wrong, Matthew and Gilbert were the best friends a person could ask for. They made him laugh and listened when he was upset. He never felt bad about talking to them about anything because they understood. Even when they disagreed, they never took offense, because they knew Flavio didn't mean offense by it. They helped him with school and he did so in return. Gilbert listened to loud music with him. Matthew swapped witty stories and jokes. Flavio had never been closer to anyone his age. He honestly believed he wouldn't ever find friends like this in another millennia.

 

But that was it, wasn't it? His friends were great. They knew just what to do - what to say. Matthew and Gilbert were too good to him and Flavio couldn't think what he did to deserve this friendship. He tried with all of his might to deserve it, mind you. Flavio helped them with studies, tailored them clothing, tried to soothe them just as they did when he was upset. For all he tried, Flavio couldn't seem to deserve this gift he'd been given.

 

Perhaps that was why Matthew and Gilbert were slowly growing away from him. Perhaps they weren't, he would attempt to reason with himself. Matthew and Gilbert were busy. They were also falling in love. They weren't growing _away_ , just growing in general.

 

Dark ideas were like weeds when they took root though, and Flavio could not so easily be rid of them.

 

Flavio was happy for his friends, don't get him wrong about that either. He'd known they liked each other and to watch them grow closer warmed his heart and made him feel like the old Flavio - the one who had been steadily pushing the two together during the last semester. What he felt now, he knew was only pity. It was petty, he knew, but he couldn't help pitying himself. He'd finally had true friends, something he'd never known he was missing, and it was no one’s but his own fault that he was loosing them.

 

And, as he approached their dorm, Flavio really shouldn't have been all that surprised to hear low voices come from the other side. They sounded serious and a worried knot clenched in Flavio’s stomach. He most certainly shouldn't have pressed his ear to the door to eavesdrop, but he did so anyway.

 

He could hear sniffling and one of the voices said something that broke off suddenly in a wavering tone. Whoever it was in there was crying.

 

“Hey, it's alright Birdie.” The second voice comforted. Gilbert’s normally loud register was soft and caressing.

 

At this point Flavio had been about to open the door, hand a mere centimeter away from the knob in front of him, but thought twice about it having heard the voice. Maybe he should leave them alone. It sounded sensitive.

 

_Yeah, so you can crawl away and be the useless friend again. Pathetic._

 

Flavio flinched and quickly pulled away from the door, eyeing it warily.

 

_No, they don't need me. I couldn't do anything to help anyway._

 

_Which is why you don't deserve them. All you do is take. All you are is a burden._

 

Again, Flavio flinched. That was a bit harsh, the sane part of him thought.

 

But still, he did not reach for the door. He could only stare. He could only wait for his cowardly feet to step forward. But they didn't. Instead, they turned away. They walked calmly down the stairs and he emerged outside.

 

_Once a coward, always a coward._

 

Flavio was shaking. He itched to run - to leave these thoughts in the dust. He could go across the campus, then when he got back things would go back to normal. He would be his happy, not-spiraling-into-dark-feelings self. Matthew would crack jokes or studiously work on a biology paper. Gilbert would play his music too loud. One big happy dorm room.

 

Flavio nodded resolutely to himself and took off at a run. The wind whipped his hair in his face and tears threatened to blink out his contacts, but he didn't care for once about his appearance. All he wanted was to _get away._ Escape escape escape.

 

One last thought followed him as he ran away:

 

_I guess some things cannot ever change, even when names can._


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

When he slowly came back to his senses he realized that he was now in the garden of the elementary department. Which meant that he was too far away from the college dormitories. For each department was made sure to be far away from each other as much as possible in order to avoid conflict or bullying between younger and older students.

 

Flavio didn’t know if such action would help but so far he hadn’t seen any older students picking on the younger ones, that was as far as he was currently concerned though.

 

Walking around, he thought to himself that the World Academy was sickeningly rich in his eyes. The way the buildings were created like it was a mix between a medieval castle and a magical academy found in a shoujo manga. The windows were covered with glasses found in cathedrals, with all its colors and shimmers when light passes through it. The intricate designs and carvings one could find in each pillar, wall, any surface at all. The way the metals and woods were twisted and turned so delicately in order to form the illusion of preserved vines and flowers. It was so beautiful and _sickening_ at the same time in Flavio’s eyes.

 

And he doesn’t know why. He just doesn’t know why because it was all pretty and appeasing for the eyes yet it made _him so sick_ to the stomach.

 

He wanted to throw up.

 

(Because deep down Flavio knew he was just like the designs. Bended until it was beautiful yet nothing from the start.)

 

He sat down on the edge of the fountain. The angel holding the jar of water didn’t soothe his troubled soul at all.

 

This was getting bad, things were getting _worse_ , and Flavio was stuck deep in the middle of everything. All the doubts surfacing, all the monsters whispering in his ears, they were there around him. Circling like he was a prey ready to be devoured at any moment.

 

This was unacceptable.

 

Flavio could not let the world he had painstakingly created for himself to shatter just like this. _He just could not_.

 

He bent down, he was trying to shield his face away from the ever observing scenery around him by looking at the ground. His hands were covering his face but the eyes were not and one could see that he was staring intently on the ground with wide and unfocused eyes enough to be mistaken as being deranged.

 

He could **not** let himself to be devoured by the same monsters that ate Lovino away.

 

He will not _die,_ he will not _vanish._

 

He needed to **_stay_**. He was here to **_stay for good_**.

 

With a sigh, Flavio finally decided that desperate times calls for desperate measures. He closed his eyes and went deeper inside his mind. This was a type of meditation or memory manipulation or whatever other people calls it that he had learned to use in this kinds of scenarios.

_Blank_

 

He needed to color the blacks with whites.

_Blank_

 

Bury the thoughts that were threatening to break the walls apart.

_Blank_

 

Erase the feelings that were making him a mess.

_Blank_

 

Just…simply forget them all.

_Be a blank slate. A white canvas. Too scared to be colored, too scared to be left alone._

 

“Art.”

 

The voice brought him out from his deep thoughts, though it was already too late for he already forgot what he was doing and thinking before getting in the place where he was currently sitting on. Just…when did he get to the elementary department? Weren’t he supposed to go back in the dormitory to finish up his current project in mind?

 

Looking to the side, Flavio saw a young man sitting a few centimeters away from him. An elementary student he safely assumed. The kid had a light blond, almost white, hair kept in braid on each side, he was wearing a red beret on top of his head. Looking closely, Flavio noted that the kid had violet eyes but in a different shade compared to Matthew, a mole could also be found under the left eye and Flavio was reminded of one Roderich Edelstein.

 

Upon further inspection, Flavio saw that the kid was holding a pencil and sketchpad. Obviously trying to draw something but Flavio was not sure if it was within the garden or something inside the boy’s mind.

 

“Everything is an art.” The boy continued but didn’t spare Flavio a glance, “War is art, peace is art, freedom is art. Everything around, be it outside or inside, is an art.”

 

A heavy stroke on the side, a curve in the middle, a shade lighter on the upper part and a shade darker on the lower part.

 

“Be it dark, be it light, both are arts in their own ways.”

 

The pencil stopped moving momentarily and the eyes were shifted towards Flavio.

 

“Your face, your eyes, it shows great forms of deception and illusion. A beautiful art, a falsity within the forest of more fakes. Magnificent in your own way yet deadly and destructive. A path with twists and turns.”

 

The last words haunted Flavio for the rest of the day.

 

“You are a beautiful dying art.”

 

* * *

 

A week passed since the incident of Flavio meeting in what he assumed as a ghost, and he had noted that he had some blank parts in his memories. He sighed, something happened again that required him to use his defense mechanism. It was helpful and at the same not whenever he had some lost memories. Helpful because he could maintain a sense of clarity, not helpful because there were sometimes bits and pieces of information that seemed important and now lost.

 

He leaned on the wall, a notebook and pencil in hand. He looked down from his bed and noted that the cheery atmosphere around their room was replaced by a heavy one. He saw how Matthew and Gilbert tried to maintain a happy façade in front of him and how they shared shifting glances between each other when they thought that Flavio was not looking at them.

 

Did he forget something he was not supposed to? Just what happened last week?

 

He pursed his lips in a tight line, if there was something that Flavio could respect it was privacy. If his friends were not ready to tell him what was bugging them then he would patiently wait.

The thought was like an acid juice burning his mouth.

 

He answered another question in his self made reviewer for his upcoming exam in physics.

 

“I can’t take this anymore!” Gilbert shouted and broke the stifling silence around the room. The sudden outburst cause Matthew to fall out of his own bed and for Flavio to flinch a little but still managed to avoid ripping his paper using the pencil.

 

“Gil?” it was Matthew who spoke while he was trying to sit down and adjust his glasses that had fallen out of his face, “What’s wrong?”

 

“What’s wrong?!” Gilbert repeated as he stood up from his desk and spread his arms like he was preparing for a big speech, “ **This** is what is wrong! We are all stressed! We need to relax! Come on people, our room is supposed to be a safe haven not another place to wire out our nerves!”

 

“And what do you want for us to do?” Flavio leaned down on the rails of his bed and directed his question towards Gilbert with a raised eyebrow.

 

“Hot spring!” this was declared with a proud smile only to received confused looks, “Oh come on! Haven’t you guys heard that the Asian Club passed a lot of proposals to the student council? Two of those proposals were currently approved. The building found between the college department and high school department was given to them for their Hot spring baths and Arnis classes. Although the hot spring is obviously artificial.” The last sentence was added as an afterthought. “It is open for everyone and it is not that expensive. They made sure that everything is student pocket friendly, kesese.”

 

“That’s great!” Matthew jumped on the idea, obviously excited at the thought of being in a Japanese style warm bath, “When are we going?”

 

“Right now! Birdie, bring clothes, soaps, towels, and other products you use in your body! Flavio!...Flavio? Dude, are you okay?”

 

While the two was discussing their current plan for the night, Flavio was having a red alert moment. Why he was having a red alert moment he didn’t know but his body was telling him that he _must_ not let other people see his body without any clothes. That he _must_ make sure that his wrists were covered with something.

 

Even though he never spared a glance on his wrists in reasons he did not know also but he knew he should not or it might break him.

 

“I’m…I’m not going, you guys enjoy yourselves.” He was about to retreat further to the side of his bed when a hand, no a pair of hands, reached out to him and he found his friends giving him mischievous grins (an expression that was not fitted for Matthew in Flavio’s opinion). They caught him and forced him out of his comfy mattress.

 

“W-what are you guys doing?! Unhand me this moment!”

 

“Oh! Someone is being shy!” it was obviously Gilbert who seized his left shoulder.

 

“Don’t worry Flavio, we are not going to judge you.” Matthew tried to pacify but the light was being reflected in a way that Flavio could not see the pair of violet eyes.

 

“Nononono! I am not going! Leave me alone!”

 

They might think he was being shy but he was not. He was frightened at what is going to happen.

During his struggles he didn’t realized that his sleeves was pushed down. He only did when the laughter and teasing that momentarily echoed around the room stopped abruptly. When he looked up, Flavio saw that Gilbert and Matthew were looking at him with shocked expressions.

 

“Flavio…what is this?...” Matthew carefully cradled the wrist which was bearing a white horizontal scar; Gilbert did the same with the other wrist that reflect the same ugly marks in Flavio’s eyes.

_Liar._

 

“I’m not a liar!” Flavio knew he had screamed internally before passing out.

 

Everything turned black. The next time he woke up, he had forgotten everything and went on his usual routine.

 

He didn’t see the way Matthew and Gilbert looked at him with worried eyes. He didn’t remember the way he screamed like someone was about to kill him. He didn’t remember lashing out for a moment before falling limp on his friends’ arms.

 

He didn’t see that everything will be in chaos in the cultural festival that will happen two weeks from now.

* * *

 

The next week was awkward between the three. At first Flavio didn't even notice it, but with time it became hard to ignore. Their glances and stares. Their worried expressions. What was going on with those two?

 

Perhaps it had to do with why Matthew had been crying last week. But shouldn't Gilbert’s worried glances be directed at the Canadian if that were the case? And shouldn't Matthew himself be looking down or out of it? Flavio was glad his friend seemed to have moved passed whatever it was that had upset him, but it did nothing to settle his confusion. His nerves were shot by the end of the week.

 

“Everything okay, Flavio?” They would ask at the most random of times. At first Flavio had been pleased and somewhat flattered that his friends were taking such a notice. When the questions proliferated he could only feel uneasy at them. They made him feel like he was missing something… something important.

 

He couldn't dwell on such a thing though. As he often couldn't stress enough, second semester was busy and stressful and now that the student body was helping in the preparations for the World Academy cultural festival, there was not a second to spare. Volunteer sign-up sheets were pinned across the student center of the campus, requesting help for activity booths, food stands, setup and clean up committees. Flavio signed up for setup and, though he probably shouldn't have, he was throwing himself into it more than anyone.

 

He hung up flags, banners, decorations along the halls of the student center and later outside near where the booths would go. He asked around for more volunteers and helped to map out where each country would be stationed. As the festival grew nearer and more of the student body began to mill around, setting up their booths and chattering about inviting their families, Flavio danced around pointing and suggesting and overall doing everything he could to make sure the event went along smoothly.

 

Finally the day of the event arrived and Flavio could relax. After initial setup for that day, consisting of checking people off on the volunteer sheets and making sure each booth ran smoothly on its own, Flavio was free to go pick up his Papa at his dorm room.

 

Why had he told Antonio to meet him there again?

 

“...So there he goes to kick the ball, everything perfectly calculated so he could make that one goal. He's running and picking up speed when it happens. Next thing you know he's on his back seeing stars! He accidentally _stepped_ on the ball!”

 

This story was greeted by enthusiastic laughter and, as Flavio stepped into his dorm, he caught sight of Antonio, Gilbert, and Matthew laughing their pants off. Flavio put a hand to his head.

 

“Papa! Stop telling those stories! They're embarrassing!”

 

“Oh, but that is the point in telling them, is it not?” His Papa grinned mischievously and Flavio reddened, not angry in the least, but thoroughly embarrassed.

 

“Don't be embarrassed, Flavio!” Matthew reassured him, “You were cute when you were younger.”

 

“Oh, this happened last year.” Antonio added helpfully, sending Gilbert over again in laughter. This elicited a small chuckle from Matthew in which he attempted to cover up as Flavio continued to watch embarrassedly.

 

“Okay, you,” Flavio went over to his Papa, ushering the man up from his chair, “Need to come with me. Time for cultural education and getting away from any more opportunities to tell embarrassing stories from high school.”

 

“Sí, sí,” Antonio dutifully nodded his head as he allowed himself to be guided out, “Lo siento, Flavio.” He apologized, but Flavio was no dummy. He could see the smile on his face.

 

When Antonio was safely in the hall, away from the friends Flavio wished to save face with, Flavio poked his head back into the dorm. “Hey, I'll see you guys at the festival?”

 

“Yeah! I invited my brother along, so keep an eye out. I want you to meet him!” Gilbert answered enthusiastically. It seemed like the two were giving a rest to their whole worrisome complex from the past two weeks, much to Flavio’s relief.

 

“How about you, Matthew?”

 

“Oh, well,” Matthew scratched at his arm, “I'm not sure. My family won't be here so…”

 

“Nonsense, Birdie! You can hang with me and West! Besides, I'll just feel like a third wheel since he's bringing-”

 

“Sorry, I gotta go guys!” Flavio spoke up suddenly, “But I will see you both at the festival! Bye!”

 

“Bye, Flavio!” The two chorused.

 

Without another word, Flavio shut the door behind him, ready to lead his Papa to the festival and showcase the event he was proud to say he'd played a big part in putting together.

 

* * *

 

 

The festival came together quite nicely if Flavio said so himself. The turnout of people was tremendous and, not only were students milling about the booths and under the flags hung over the streets, but many had taken to inviting their families and friends just as had been advertised. Parents were led along by their kids to proudly showcase the campus they had been studying at for the past semester if not longer, younger kids, assumably siblings or even an older student’s own children danced about in the open grass with other kids they had practically just met, paying no heed as adults would to new interaction, and masses of young adults skipped around, arm-in-arm with friends and significant others. It was truly a community event, open to all.

 

Flavio smiled thinking about it. He had done a good bit in organizing this. This spectacular event had been partially because of Flavio himself. And he was proud of that.

 

He and his Papa were having a great time themselves, just as the many people Flavio took the time to observe. They strolled down the main green of campus, laughing and talking with each other and ultimately having just enjoying one another’s company. This time of thing used to be normal for them, and it still was. In Spain the two had been so close, often watching movies on the couch on weekends or running errands together. They had been apart for a long time now that Flavio was away for school but when Antonio had shown up they had immediately clicked back together. It was one of those unique relationships that Flavio wouldn’t trade for the world.

 

But neither would he ever trade the friendships he had made there at school either.

 

And speaking of friendships… there were his two roommates now. Flavio waved at them, hoping that even from across the distance between them he could catch at least one of his friends’ eyes. Sure enough, Matthew looked up from where he had been listening to a conversation Gilbert was having with someone and spotted Flavio, smile brightening and turning back to tug at the sleeve of Gilbert’s t-shirt. Even from there, Flavio could tell Matthew was apologizing for interrupting the conversation between Gilbert and a fairly tall blonde and couldn’t help snickering to himself. Matthew will be Matthew.

 

He turned toward his own company and saw that his Papa had a pleasant smile on his face. “How about I go get us some pretzels over there from the German booth while you find your friends? I can catch up with you and, if the stereotype serves true, your German friends may like the food!” Antonio said cheerfully and Flavio laughed under his breath.

 

“Yeah, Papa. I know Gilbert likes them, so his brother might too.” Flavio replied and glanced to see the group making its way toward them. The tall blonde seemed to be following them and Flavio deduced that he must be the “little” brother Gilbert had mentioned inviting. He felt his Papa pat him on the shoulder and watched as he disappeared into the crowd. Flavio continued to watch his friends cut a path through the booths and bodies lining the street and thought he saw the top of another head following closely behind Gilbert’s brother. It bobbed happily, as if skipping along.

 

But Matthew hadn’t invited anyone to the festival. That was what he had said this morning, hadn’t it? Did that mean this was another of Gilbert’s family? It seemed unlikely as the darker hair and complexion of the man didn’t look as though it belonged in the Beilschmidt heritage. And his height could not rival that of the two brothers. Maybe the kid was adopted. Wow, that would have been really insensitive if Flavio had made that mistake aloud.

 

“Hello, Flavio.” Matthew greeted when they were close enough and Flavio shifted his attention to his Canadian friend. “The festival is amazing! You did well.”

 

“Thank you, but a lot of people helped.” Flavio scratched his head modestly, a proud smile upturning his lips, “Credit goes to a lot of people, but, yeah, I didn’t expect it to be such a huge success.”

 

Flavio turned his gaze on the others who were now with him now, taking note on several things. One, that Gilbert’s brother, if that was who it was, was much _much_ taller than his older brother and looked like he lifted weights in all of his free time. The guy was what the word ‘brawny’ had been made for. He serious face was intimidating a little, but Flavio prided himself as a good judge of character for the most part and, after examining his face for a minute he could see the traces of a softer side. Especially to the perky man who stood beside him, bouncing on the balls of his feet and holding the blonde’s hand. Flavio passed up the opportunity to think of the tall man’s complementary colors in favor of shifting his gaze to the extra person of the group, the one he had not been warned of beforehand.

 

But just as Flavio’s eye seemed to connect with those of the auburn-haired man, a strange look passed across the man’s eyes. Recognition?

 

“Lovino?” The word shook Flavio to his foundations. The man’s voice rang through the air like bells, singing sweetly to the world around them, but clanging and clashing in Flavio’s echoing skull. Flavio stilled, unsure as to why that name of all things was in a place like this - on a day like this when all seemed well and wonderful in Flavio’s life.

 

Flavio’s magenta eyes looked fearful, confused, and slightly panicked as he continued to look at the man. The shorter man’s own eyes were huge and he gaped at Flavio like he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing. The color of those eyes, a soft cocoa, reminded Flavio of his own under his contacts. They looked like Lovino’s, except for Lovino’s looked more hazel and definitely more haunting. The man’s were brighter, alight with natural happiness, something that had never been common for the lost boy with the darker hair.

 

On instinct, Flavio furrowed his brows in the way he only did when he was either perplexed or engulfed in emotions that weren’t his own. In that moment, Flavio couldn’t tell the two apart.

 

The motion of Flavio’s contorted features seemed to confirm the man’s suspicions somehow and he stepped forward, a hopeful visage sculpting his face. “It is you…” He said softly, untrusting of his own words, yet seemingly sure of them nonetheless, “You look so different…”

 

“Wait, you guys know each other?” Gilbert asked. Flavio didn’t know how to respond and he looked between the others. They all had their eyes trained solely on him. Every gaze on Flavio and he started to feel his skin burning from the unwanted attention.

 

“Um… I don’t… Uh…” Flavio attempted to answer, quite intelligently. He was hoping that perhaps the kind man would clue him into what he was missing here, but the other didn’t seem to think there was any question in their mutual remembrance. It wasn’t long until the other started to notice,growing confused and doubtful themselves.

 

But, damn it, the guy looked familiar. The fluffy look to that auburn hair. That cheery smile and bright brown eyes. His olive complexion, quite similar to his own. He could practically already hear the man’s laughter singing through his silent ears.

 

Then the same laugh rang through the air and Flavio’s heart stopped. It was exactly as he had envisioned. The merry tune sent a pang of joyous familiarity into his heart. And something else. Darker, foreign emotions. The laugh was short and sweet enough to make Flavio’s head dizzy. The strain resounded like a memory.

 

Suddenly there were enthusiastic arms around him in an all-encompassing hug. A cheek was rubbing against his chest and auburn hair on his face. The other started to giggle again as he exclaimed, “It’s been so long, _fratello_! How have you been? I barely recognized you with your hair and your eyes- You look _molto buono! Sorprendente!_ ” At this point the excitable young man switched completely into another language that Flavio, somehow understood. Going by the sing-song nature and lilting accent of the language, Flavio decided it must have been Italian. And he could understand it perfectly. Were Spanish and Italian that similar?!?

 

It wasn’t until this thought occurred to Flavio that he finally came to his sense and shoveded the other away. Flavio stepped back quickly, eyes the size of saucers and excuses and apologies already falling from his mouth as he watched the man stare at him in surprise.

 

“I- I’m sorry! I think you may have the wrong person. I’m not - I don’t - I don’t know you.” His hands were up in a placating gesture and served as an extra barrier between them. Flavio didn’t think the man meant him harm at all nor did he believe he could cause much of it going by those noodle arms, but the space was needed and all the same. Flavio required room to breath, to gather his thoughts.

 

The man looked genuinely confused, but Flavio’s heart was beating too loudly for him to take this into full consideration. For some reason, the simple misunderstanding was causing fear to course through his veins, when for anyone else it would have only been a matter of laughing awkwardly and brushing it off. What was wrong with him?

 

“Lovino?” The anxious voice asked again. Wait, when had the man gotten so nervous?

 

Flavio envisioned himself grinning back at the man’s own weakening smile. A smirk from him usually had the effect to brighten him up and he didn’t like that look the other was currently wearing. It looked so unsure, so confused, so everything that Flavio remembered from a life long forgotten. He wasn’t supposed to remember whatever this was. It wasn’t for _him_ to remember. He was no longer that person…

 

_Feliciano, everything is okay._

 

Flavio flinched. It hadn’t been his voice, but he knew it must have been the same lips. His lips had formed those words once upon a time, so very long ago. “Feliciano…” he whispered to himself, trying out the name on his tongue. An old name in a new voice. The confused man across from him perked up at the sound of it, his own name. He said something, but the words fell on deaf ears. The world was completely desolate of noise other than the pounding of his heart and a whirlwind of meaningless words from an old voice whispering in his head.

 

The world was a blur and Flavio couldn’t figure out if it was from a lack of oxygen or the obstruction that his tears provided to his vision.

 

He took a single step back, looking around at the fuzzy figures around him. One of them stepped forward, an arm outstretched to be placed on his shoulder, but Flavio shrugged them off in his panic. It hadn’t been Feliciano, who he knew despite his foggy vision was the indistinguishable figure in the middle of the group, too afraid to approach after Flavio had pushed him away. Flavio didn’t care. He needed space. He didn’t want anyone close to him. It was too crowded, too many bodies, not enough room to breath-

 

The murmurs around him grew distant as Flavio raced away from prying eyes. He hadn’t noticed himself running away until the solid concrete below him changed to soft grass, but he didn’t slow down or even think what he was doing through. His head felt like it was ready to explode and the only way to save himself was to leave immediately. Leave now before disaster struck again and things got worse and Flavio couldn’t seize control of himself or his surroundings or what was happening-

 

He never wanted to go back. He never wanted to see that face again. Never hear that voice- the voice that was still with him as he ran away, tearing across campus.

 

The voice that, in all these years, never had and never would leave him.

* * *

 

 

Antonio had no idea what was going on when he had come back to find Flavio stumbling away at an impossible speed for someone who looked unstable on their feet. That was, until he saw Feliciano and it all came together. The shock, the hurt, the confusion that painted the young Italian’s face - it all told Antonio what disaster had occurred while he had been absent and the normally cheery man cursed under his breath.

 

What was he to do now? He had dealt with Flavio’s problems before - every breakdown, panic attack, identity crisis - yet he was lost in the light of this new development. Something he had been hoping to avoiding since Flavio, then Lovino, had first started to live with him and had hoped they could avoid, well, for the rest of their lives. He should have known that no one’s luck was that great.

 

And now he had no idea what to do. Antonio knew Flavio better than anyone, but what could he do now for him? Now that the unthinkable had happened. Now that Antonio could not protect Flavio from his past and the abuse of his younger years. Antonio had been so naive to think he would never have to deal with this. He was a young parent, even still. Antonio had become a single parent to a fragile teenager from a broken childhood and all he had wanted to do was protect the boy.

 

And now it was all falling apart. Because the past caught up with everyone.

 

“Uncle Antonio?” Feliciano exclaimed and Antonio looked up to find the younger Italian brother looking at him in desperation. He was searching for an answer. It was obvious that Flavio was also who Feliciano thought him to be, especially now that Antonio was there too and the poor guy looked ready to burst into tears. Feliciano hadn’t known this would happen and it wasn’t the kid’s fault.

 

Antonio couldn’t worry about that right then though. He had his own kid to find.

 

“We have to find him.” Antonio found himself saying, looking to his son’s two roommates. They both looked shell-shocked by all that was happening too, but, upon hearing Antonio’s words, they snapped out of it.

 

Antonio would have smiled if the situation wasn’t so serious.

 

_You’ve found some loyal friends, Flavio._ He thought before Matthew spoke up.

 

“We’ll split up. The campus is huge, but we can find him.”

 

Gilbert nodded, looking uncharacteristically serious, yet the look still somehow suited him, “I’ll check the eastern green. He likes the greens around campus, but, obviously, the main one here is a bit crowded.”

 

“I’ll go see if he’s in your dorm.” Antonio added, a determined look to his own usually happy-go-lucky features.

 

“I guess I’ll go west then.” Matthew said, already looking in that direction as if contemplating the different places he could check. After Gilbert briefly told his brother that he and Feli should check out the rest of the festival without them, he and Matthew took off in their respective directions. Antonio was about to leave himself when Feliciano spoke up again.

 

“I want to help, Uncle Antonio.” There was a strength in his voice that made Antonio stop. He had never heard Feliciano speak in that way before and he wondered if it was a result from the long years they had spent apart or the situation itself. Perhaps it was both. “I want to help Lovino.” He clarified, but the wording only made Antonio frown.

 

He loved Feliciano; he really did. He had been out of Flavio’s life for too long though. He didn’t know what was going on and Antonio was sure it would only make things worse. His number one priority at the moment was Flavio and letting Feliciano into this would only complicate it all. He knew he should never have pushed away the boy from his brother all of those times. He should have told Feliciano what was going on with his brother. If he had, maybe Flavio wouldn’t have been confronted with the _Lovino_ dilemma. Maybe Flavio and Feliciano could have still been brothers.

 

“I’m sorry, Feli. The only way you can help him now is to stay away. Give him some space. I…” Antonio griped his fist that rested at his side, cursing himself again, “I have a lot to explain to you. To both of you.”

 

Then, with this, Antonio walked away. He had to find Flavio and fix what he had mistakenly thought he could protect. He had to make things right.

 

* * *

 

 

“Anything?” Gilbert asked when he ran into Matthew beside the Psych building across campus from where they had started. The other just shook his head, worrying his bottom lip and showing his palms n a gesture of helplessness. Gilbert frowned, concern plainly on his face. “Me neither.”

 

“Come on. There’s still plenty of places we can check.” Matthew grabbed Gilbert’s hand and started leading in a new direction. They continued to walk silently, both looking every which way for a sign or clue of where their friend could be until the silence around them was broken by Gilbert’s voice.

 

“Do you have any idea what this is all about?” He asked cautiously, unsure if they were allowed to talk about it or if they were supposed to pretend it hadn’t happened.

 

Matthew peered at him. “I… No, I don’t.” More silence and they continued to walk. The festival had been long left behind and the campus buildings growing less and less frequent. Eventually, Matthew spoke again.

 

“Fratello is Italian for brother.” Was all that he said and Gilbert was confused what that had to do with anything until he remembered Feliciano’s words.

 

“Do you think Flavio and Feliciano are brothers then?”

 

Matthew shrugged. “I don’t know. None of it makes sense. He also called Flavio ‘Lovino’.”

 

Gilbert nodded but said no more. It was odd. The whole situation just seemed so… out of whack. It was possible it was all a big misunderstanding, but that didn’t explain Flavio’s reaction to it all or how Feliciano definitely knew Antonio. _Uncle Antonio_ was what he had called him.

 

Cousins perhaps? Close friends to the family? Why had Flavio said he didn’t know Feliciano then? Had they never met?

 

Ugh, this was all giving him a headache to think about.

 

Enough of a headache that he barely even noticed that Matthew’s hand was in his, pulling him determinedly along to find their friend. In any other situation it may have been godsend for Matthew to be holding his hand, but at the moment it was the last thing on Gilbert’s mind.

 

Then suddenly Matthew stopped. Gilbert would have run into him if he hadn’t been watching where he was going and when he halted inches away from the other he looked around his shoulder. “What-” he started to ask, but broke off when it was obvious what Matthew had stopped for.

 

There he was. Flavio. He was sitting on the side of a large fountain, face hidden in the shadow of his blonde hair as he gazed down at the wish-laden water. They were in a garden far away from their side of campus. Short paths led around the fountain, but mostly the lawn was covered in a rich, well-maintained blanket of grass. Bushes lined the outskirts of the square of land and the few buildings around looked much like the ones in their department, but shorter. The old brickwork and stained glass reminded Gilbert of castles back in Germany that were scattered all over the place. The area looked much too manicured to be the beautiful countryside he knew and loved though.

 

In Gilbert’s thoughts, he hadn’t noticed when Matthew had slipped away, retracting his hand from his own and stepping toward the fountain. He approached carefully and sat beside Flavio, saying nothing as the blonde continued to stare into the clean clear water. Gilbert didn’t know what to do. Did he approach too? Wouldn’t that just crowd the guy? He didn’t know about Flavio, but when he was upset he liked to have a lot of room to himself. It helped him clear his head; plus he hated the feeling that he was burdening others with his sorry ass.

 

Gilbert bit his lip. That didn’t sound like Flavio though. Now that he thought about it, had he truly ever seen Flavio upset before? Frustrated, yes. Maybe a bit angry when he felt like his teachers were being unfair or if he catches wind of some poor soul getting bullied, of course. Upset over something regarding himself though? Gilbert couldn’t remember a single time. He’d had his suspicions and there was that thing last week, but- damn it, this was different.

 

Something was seriously off with Flavio.

 

“You guys shouldn’t be here.” Flavio finally spoke up, not moving a centimeter from where he sat. His head was still bowed and his voice was low.

 

“Of course we should. You’re our friend, Flavio. We wanted to make sure you were alright.” Matthew reassured him, going to place his hand on Flavio’s shoulder like he had tried back at the festival. Like then, Flavio shrugged it off again. Not as frantic as last time. More violently than anything.

 

He whipped his gaze up, brows furrowed and a look of pure fury on his face. It took both of them back. Flavio had never given them that look before. He had never been one to be angry. But what they saw now, it wasn’t Flavio.

 

“Don’t call me Flavio!” He yelled, standing up from the fountain with fists balled at his sides. Matthew jumped up too, as surprised as Gilbert was at the outburst. Matthew said nothing and Gilbert took that as his cue to step forward.

 

“Hey, man. Chill. Everything’s alright.”

 

“Idiot! Everything is not alright! Who the hell do you take me for?” The malice in his voice was strong and Gilbert could only blink at his friend. It was as if his friend had had a complete 180 degree personality flip.

 

But Flavio’s words and tone had only spiked Gilbert’s own defenses. “What the hell, Flavio? We’re trying to help! Don’t you think we deserve some kind of explanation after you just took off like that? We’re your friends, so tell us what’s wrong so we can help!”

 

“Don’t.” The blonde across from him grounded out, repeating his statement from earlier, “Call me. _Flavio_.”

 

“And what the hell is that supposed to mean? What do you _want_ us to call you? You aren’t making any sense, Flavio!” In hindsight, tagging the name on again probably hadn’t been the best decision, but Gilbert were freaking angry and when he was angry he tended to throw his verbal filter into the wind.

 

“Gilbert-” Matthew tried to cut in, but before he could get very far with his statement Gilbert felt something hit his gut. Hard.

 

“Oof!” Was the last thing Gibert said before he felt his butt hit the concrete. He was dazed for a second before he looked up. Flavio stood there were one fist out, breathing heavy and face flushed. Gilbert was shell-shocked for the second time that day. Flavio would have never done that. Gilbert knew Flavio- he had thought he’d known Flavio.

 

Flavio wasn’t acting at all like Flavio right now.

 

Then Matthew was standing between them, not facing either of them, but barricading them from each other’s wrath all the same. “Please, Fl-” Matthew started only to catch himself on the name that now seemed to piss off its owner. Instead Matthew turned his head toward the blonde, not moving his actual body an inch to do so, before saying again, “Please. Let’s just go back to the dorms. Antonio’s there. I’m sure you can talk to him, right?”

 

Matthew seemed to be grasping for straws, but the name seemed to ring a bell in Flavio’s mind. His language didn’t calm in the least though. His temperament didn’t change. “Antonio? That bastard? Why would I want to see him?” It was with these words that Gilbert realized that his voice had changed too. Ever so subtly. Now the accent was just a little different, but Gilbert couldn’t quite put his finger on how.

 

“Well, he’s family, isn’t he?” Matthew replied. His voice wavered a little and Gilbert knew he must have been desperate if he was playing the ‘family’ card. Especially with how his own relationship with his family was.

 

This seemed to be the right thing to say though, because Flavio visibly relaxed. He crossed his arms and mumbled down at his chest, “I suppose…”

 

Gilbert breathed a sigh of relief, though he was still holding his gut where one of his two best friends had punched him. He made a mental note to _never_ underestimate Flavio again.

 

“But _don’t_ ,” He warned, looking at Gilbert as he said it, “Call me Flavio again.”

 

The tension in the air was palpable and Gilbert simply looked at his friend, wondering again who had traded Flavio in for this scowling and highly irritated version.

 

“What do we call you then?” Matthew spoke up.

 

Then the answer to Gilbert’s questions was answered when the angry man replied.

 

“Call me Lovino.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Antonio said he was just about to leave the dorm, but I caught him in time. He’ll wait for us there.” Gilbert said as he put his phone in his pocket. Matthew had later deduced, when he didn’t have so many of his thoughts trained on the whereabouts of his friend, that the garden they had been in was all the way in the elementary department on the other side of campus. This meant that the walk back took a lot longer than was necessarily comfortable and left a lot of silence between the three.

 

Which meant a lot of time to think for Matthew.

 

Ever since Flavio had said those words (ever since _Lovino_ had said them?) it had been as if a massive jigsaw puzzle had exploded in Matthew’s brain. He’d thought he would have a few pieces to pick up, perhaps find a few along the way as they eventually discussed with their friend on what seemed to be wrong, but now the pieces had multiplied, doubled their amount, tripled. Each piece so distorted and their tiny pictures so vague that it was impossible to piece them all together to illustrate a scenario that made sense.

 

Lovino. That had been what Feliciano had called him, but why was their friend so adamant about using it all of a sudden? And why was he acting so different? And hostile? And secretive? He knew he could talk to them, right? They were his friends and Matthew liked to think they were pretty close friends too.

 

It was troubling to say the least and Matthew was determined to get to the bottom of it.

 

Another glance to his side alerted Matthew to some sort of change in Flavio’s demeanor. As they had walked the prolonged length back to their dorm, it seemed Flavio had slowly but surely relaxed back into a semblance of someone Matthew knew. Now he looked like Flavio again, but despite this, Matthew knew he could not be so careless as to think that was the end of it.

 

Flavio's shoulders were now slumped, eyebrows still furrowed but not as though in anger like before. He showed signs of a calmer demeanor, yet tension still coiled tightly in his back as he walked, both hands pocketed. He certainly was recognizable again as none other than Flavio Fernandez Carriedo, but his attitude still remained morphed into something Matthew had never seen on his friend. He couldn't shake the feeling that they were getting a rare glimpse at the person behind who Flavio projected himself to be. It worried Matthew, but, at the same time, he knew seeing this, all sides of Flavio, and accepting it for what it was, was apart of being his friend.

 

When Flavio stopped in his tracks, Matthew was the first to spot it. Matthew halted as well, a pace ahead, and turned to his friend whose gaze couldn't seem to find a suitable place to settle. Matthew was patient though and simply waited. Behind him, he could hear that Gilbert's footsteps had stopped too, but he didn't turn to look.

 

“Sorry for freaking out, guys.” Flavio’s voice came at last. He crossed his arms tightly over his chest, still refusing to look either of them in the eye. Matthew smiled softly, reassuringly, even as he knew Flavio wouldn't see it when he refused to look up.

 

Flavio scratched his arm and continued, “It’s… uh, complicated. And a really long story. I don't like to talk about it…” Flavio mumbled this last sentence. Matthew was focusing on straining his ears to hear when, suddenly, Flavio snapped his eyes up to meet his, the magenta hue startling to look at when he had only been seeing the dark shadows below Flavio’s hair all afternoon. “I'll tell you guys if you want to hear though.”

 

Matthew could only blink at his friend, taken off guard by his sudden directness.

 

“I owe you guys at least that much.” Flavio continued, a scruple of guilt reflected in his irises. Matthew’s chest ached for a moment in empathy. Flavio’s conscience weighed with a burden that didn't belong with him. Matthew recognized it and he wished he could grip his friend by the shoulders and drill sense into his head. He wanted to tell Flavio that the regret he was feeling was made up by his own mind; that whatever it was he was keeping so closely locked up inside him would never tear their friendship apart.

 

But Matthew stood silent, dumbly watching that look in Flavio’s eyes. He was saved when Gilbert spoke up.

 

“Let's go somewhere private then.”

 

Gilbert herded them both away.

 

* * *

 

 

Flavio’s emotions swirled like a tidal wave in his body. His gut whirled in anxiety. His mind twisted in confusion. His heart beat like it never had before - a hummingbird in his chest, flittering at a thousand miles per minute.

 

He chewed on his lip as he faced his two friends across the table. He was nervous beyond belief and confused past imagine, but he was no longer completely overwhelmed which he supposed must have been an upside. He couldn't maintain eye contact for more than a brief moment and instead relied on the constant view of cream on his coffee. The warmth from the cup should have been a comfort, but Flavio’s thoughts were far beyond the hands wrapped around the beige paper cup.

 

The place they were in was quite empty, probably because most people on campus were at the festival. They sat in the far corner of a cafe, right next to a window that overlooked a wooded piece of land that, by the looks of it, was not frequented by many. Inside, the cafe’s atmosphere was one of warm colors and sweet smells. The tables were a dark brown and the walls another warm shade. It was the type of place where their specialty changed everyday and was carefully decorated upon a chalkboard above the register.

 

It looked like a quiet place where students came to study and friends frequented for comfortable conversations over a nice brew. Flavio knew it would be a cozy place when more people were there. The bakery would have fresher pastries and the baristas would be hustling about from the different coffee machines.

 

But now the quiet seemed suffocating, Flavio’s only comfort away from the searching eyes of his friends the simple smell of fresh cookies. Flavio idly wondered to himself why a new batch was made when customers were so scarce that day…

 

“Flavio?”

 

Flavio blinked and tore his gaze from the window it had lingered to. When his gaze fell on Gilbert, then Matthew, they both stayed silent. Fear knotted suddenly in his chest and he forced himself to swallow the knob in his throat. He nodded, hoping this would ease the tension around them.

 

“Right…” his voice came out nearly a whisper and he absent-mindedly scooped a bit of cream from the top of his coffee. He didn't taste it immediately, instead leaving it to perch on his pointer. He watched it, as if it could have the solution to all of his problems. “Where do I even start?”

 

“How about with Feliciano? Or why he called you Lovino?” Matthew offered. Flavio was grateful for the help, but, even so, he still could not find the words to describe this… situation. His life.

 

“Feli… he's my brother.” The cream began to slip from his finger and Flavio quickly popped it into his mouth. He nodded to himself and let his gaze meet those of the two across from him, unwavering. “My name is Flavio Fernandez Carriedo. Before then I was Lovino Vargas.”

 

At Matthew’s and Gilbert’s confused looks, Flavio grabbed a stirrer from a cup of them near where the wall and the table touched. It was short and skinny and red and Flavio plopped it right into his coffee where he began to stir absent-mindedly. Usually he enjoyed let the cream settle atop his coffee, but today he needed something for his hands to do.

 

He hummed and spoke again. “At sixteen I changed it. I didn't like who I was, so I thought I could be someone else. Lovino was weak and unhappy…” Flavio felt his shoulders hunch a bit at the memory. Should he go into the full story? His stirring quickened its pace.

 

“Lovino- I- I made some mistakes. I didn't know this until later, but it turned out that Antonio, who had only been my uncle at the time, had taken notice. I don't think anyone knew the extent of it until later, but he knew Lovino was very unhappy.”

 

“Lovino wasn't the easiest kid to take care of. No one really liked him. It was difficult to live beside a younger brother who was… perfect. And to have the only adult in his life never care for him. Ugh- me. I meant me. I just-” His voice broke slightly. He continued in a whisper. “It's just… still really hard for me.”

 

The cafe was silent. It was as if any surrounding people had realized the severity of their conversation and cleared out. Flavio wondered if it was from respect or from a reluctance to be around. Flavio didn't raise his eyes from the polished surface of their table.

 

“When… _I_ tried to… kill myself. That was when Papa adopted me.” If it had been quiet before, the silence was deafening now. “I changed my name and tried to forget about the past. Dyed my hair. Changed my eyes. You would never recognize me, especially if you looked at Lovino’s personality.”

 

“So, yeah. There's my story.” Flavio raised his head, looking up into his friends’ eyes. “I'm not who you thought I was. I'm not actually this person, 'Flavio’. I lied and you're my two best friends and I'm sorry.” Flavio’s hands were shaking and he held them in his lap. All he could do was sigh. “If you hate me-”

 

“ _Hate_ you?” He was interrupted suddenly by Gilbert’s demanding voice. “You can say a lot of bullshit, but insinuating we would hate you for something like this is where I draw the line. What do you think, Matthew?”

 

“Gilbert’s right. Why _ever_ would we hate you for something like this, Flavio?” Matthew asked, eyebrows furrowed.

 

Flavio merely blinked at them. “I lied to you. I'm not Flavio.”

 

“Lie?” Gilbert spoke again. “Flavio is who you are, isn't it?”

 

“Well… legally…” Flavio said, unsure as to where his friend was going with this.

 

“Legally smegally. It's who _you_ say you are, isn't it?”

 

“But does that-” Flavio started.

 

“Sure it does, Flavio!” Gilbert exclaimed. “You are who you say you are and no one can say differently. They aren't _you_. They can't say what feels right to you. What is best for you. What your identity is. If you feel like Flavio, then you damn well are Flavio.”

 

“B-but it's my past. I let you think I had been with Antonio all my life.”

 

“What does that matter?” Gilbert shot back. “For one, you never explicitly said that, did you?”

 

“Well, I guess not…”

 

“And another, why the hell is it our business anyway? We're your friends, yeah, but you have no obligation to tell us things that you'd rather leave in the past. It’s not our business - we're glad to make it our business if you'd like and it's awesome that you're telling us now to clear some of this shit up - but if it's really something that's best left alone I like to think we'd be respectful of that wish.”

 

Matthew spoke up, his much softer voice providing contrast to Gilbert's passionate plea. “Flavio, we don't hate you. Actually, we're really happy you told us. I like to think that it means you trust us.”

 

Their drinks were long forgotten. Flavio had a tear streaking down his face and he quickly ducked his head to wipe at it. They didn't hate him? How? How had he come to find two people so good?

 

But, most of all, how could they not hate him when he struggled everyday not to do the same? How could he hope for _anyone’s_ friendship when he couldn't even stop him from hating himself?

 

He had nothing left to say. He only had tear after salty tear to watch fall into his lap. He didn't look up when he heard the chairs across from him scrape against the floor and felt two pairs of arms wrap around him into a tight embrace. They held him as he broke down into quiet tears, shaking and burying his face in their shoulders. The three were there for a very very long time and by the time Flavio’s tears had quieted, he realized that he did in fact have something left to say.

 

“Thank you, guys.”

 

* * *

 

 

_They’re late._

 

Those were the words echoing around Antonio’s mind. Earlier he had received a message from one of Flavio’s (Lovino’s?) friends and told him that they found their adopted son, but that was an hour ago and it did nothing to calm his nerves. What if his son needed him? What if Flavio was suffering a breakdown? Antonio read it in some of the books he had in stored at home that sudden introduction to a possible trigger could result to emotional or psychological breakdowns. Antonio didn’t know how to handle it in person but he hoped all the books and videos he had seen before may help him.

 

It might have been out of character for him to study anything related to psychology but if it was for his son, even adopted, then he was willing to do anything. He had even forsaken his own personal love life just to make sure that Flavio could have the chance to grow full of hope and happiness.

 

Tossing the main problem deep down inside the treasure box of negativity _may not_ have been the smartest thing that Antonio could have done though. Francis tried not to pry too much about Antonio’s personal life but he did give his Spanish friend the number of a certain psychiatrist.

 

_Should I make an appointment for Flavio? But...he has been dealing with this for so long…_

 

Antonio rest his hand on the front pocket of his jeans where his wallet was hidden inside. The card number was safely in tuck between the bills and credit cards. Was he going to make a right decision or will it make matters even worse?

 

“Zio Antonio?”

 

He stopped his pacing back and forth, just how long was he walking in circles? He shifted his gaze towards the supposedly younger brother of his adopted son (Flavio/Lovino he was not sure anymore). As much as Antonio didn’t want to point fingers a part of him wanted to blame Feliciano for their current predicament. Though he still have some sense that the younger Vargas was not at fault right now, at least not directly and intentional.

 

They were waiting on the hallway just in front of the room of Flavio, Gilbert, and Matthew. They could not go inside. Antonio _could_ ask anyone in charge to open it for them (he could be really persuasive when he wanted to) but that would be invasion of privacy towards the residents of the room and Antonio didn’t want to contribute anymore trigger for Flavio.

 

Feliciano was sitting on the ground, legs sprawled outward and holding an...orange cat? Antonio didn’t even want to know when and how Feli got the time to get the cat. Leaning on the wall beside his Italian nephew was the younger brother of Gilbert and standing so awkwardly that Antonio could not help but took pity on him. On the other side was their Japanese friend leaning on the railings and watched the clouds passed by as if it was an interesting thing to do. Well, Antonio could not really blame the other two, this was not their business after all.

 

“Zio Antonio?” with a defeated sigh, Antonio made a noise at the back of his throat to signal that he had heard his nephew, “What’s happening to my _fratello?_ ”

 

Antonio tapped his fingers on the wooden door as he contemplated on how to answer the question. He knew he has the obligation to tell Feliciano on what was the truth of their situation but at the same time he didn’t know if he has the right to utter a word of it without Flavio around.

 

It was like someone gave him the decision when his phone rang twice before he answered it. All the time Feli’s attention was centered at him, patiently waiting for an answer to his question.

 

_“Papa?”_

 

“Flavio! Are you okay? Where are you? Is your friends with you? _Dios mio, mi hijo, are you alright?!”_

 

_“I...I’m fine...Papa…”_ he heard his son took a deep breathe on the other side of the line, _“Gilbert and Matthew are with me too…”_

 

“Oh, that’s good to hear.” the tension on his shoulders was lessened even for just a little bit.

 

_“Papa, is...is...Feliciano Vargas with you right now?”_

 

Antonio noted the way that Flavio said the name of the younger Vargas. So his son _did_ remember Feli but was not yet ready to assume his role as the big brother after years of building a life where Flavio was just an only child even if he was adopted in the first place.

 

“Si, along with his friends.”

 

A slight look to the side and Antonio noted that Feliciano perked up a bit when he noticed that he was being discussed between his uncle and brother.

 

_“I--I don’t think….I don’t think I can handle….I mean…”_ a choked sob escaped, not loud but enough to be picked up by Antonio’s ears, _“Papa...I can’t...not now…help me…”_

 

Antonio would be the worst father ever if he will not help his son who was obviously in need. The pleading words couldn’t be a more hint for it. It was not even a hint, it was a straight to the point asking for help.

 

“Okay, I’ll handle things on this side. Just...just take a rest, si? Are you going back to your dormitory?”

 

_“S-si.”_

 

“Then I shall call you back after I finish my task!”

 

_“Papa...gracias…grazie”_

 

And the line went dead. With a sigh, Antonio returned his attention towards the other three teenagers with him.

 

“All right, get up guys and follow me. You two,” he pointed towards Feli’s companions, “can come with us or not. You’re not really obligated to be drag in our family problems.”

 

There was a shared glance happened between the two guys that Antonio was pertaining to and it seemed that they both reached a conclusion. For now, they did not deserve to have a front row seat about the problem. Feliciano could just fill them if the Italian wanted to share. And it seemed also that Feli landed on the same idea. With a nod, Kiku and Ludwig, if Antonio remembered it correctly, walked away from them.

 

“Well, that was easy. Your friends are really something, Feli.”

 

“Ve~ Luddy and Kiku are the best friends I could ever ask for!” it was said with pride and pure adoration.

 

“That’s good. Now! Let’s go, I’m sure you have a lot of questions.”

 

“Ve? Where are we going? Aren’t we going to wait for _fratello_ to come back first?”

 

“Feli.” Antonio turned around to look directly on his nephew’s eyes. Now that he was sure that Flavio was safe he was prepared to spill all the beans that he knew. Even if it means that he would hurt certain feelings. “He’s not your brother right now. He has not been your brother for four years now.”

 

“Ve?”

 

* * *

 

 

Feliciano could still remember the day his brother was hospitalized. The day that marked him being the only child in the Vargas household. He thought that when Lovino was finally out he could help his brother to recover. He didn’t expect that his brother would not come home with them when he was discharged. Feli begged his grandpa to do anything so that they could have Lovino back, his _fratello_ was his only link that was the closest in being family.

 

But he heard the whispers. The passing words on how their grandpa would lose the battle of custody.

 

He spent four years not seeing Lovino. Every attempt he was making to see his brother again was always taken down.

 

Then finally, _finally,_ he was able to see Lovino again. But it turned out it was not Lovino that he knew. Not the one he calls _fratello._

 

“So...are you saying that I’m the reason why _fratello_ committed suicide back then? Why _fratello_ made himself forget of the past?”

 

“Well, not really fully forgetting the past. It’s more like boxing all the memories and store it somewhere on the back of his mind.” Antonio took a deep breathe of his cigarette. They were on the garden near the college department. From their spot they both could see that some of the stalls were slowly packing up. It seems that the events were divided between morning and night shift. No wonder that the school included in the invitation the list of hotels nearby just in case the visitors wanted to stay for the whole event.

 

“Isn’t it the same thing?!”

 

Antonio choked on his cigarette and coughed a few times to get his breathing right. He didn’t expect the loud voice with a tone of sorrow in it. Yes, he did expect Feli to cry but he didn’t expect him to lash out like this. On the second thought, maybe Antonio must have seen the possible reactions of the other once he had finished his side of the story.

 

“Flavio.”

 

“Eh?”

 

“That’s his name now, right? Flavio Fernandez Carriedo, the only son of Antonio Fernandez Carriedo.”

 

The sky was tinted with orange now that Feliciano gazed at it. That was it, right? He just really could not accept that his brother was long gone. He was chasing after a shadow that was long ago swallowed by darkness...or light depending on how you will look on their situation.

 

What kind of brother Feliciano was to not notice that his older brother was suffering all this time?

 

Did he still have the right to call Lovino (Flavio?) his _fratello_?

 

“You know,” Antonio stopped Feliciano’s musings, “I think you should just give him time.”

 

“Time? More time to forget me? To forget our _real parents_?” it was not meant as an accusation but it was still received as such judging from the way that Antonio winced under his breathe.

 

“That’s not what I meant.” Antonio scuffed his cigarette under his shoes before throwing it in a nearby trash can. “I think Flavio realized that he needed help. A professional help.”

 

“He needed such thing years ago, Zio Antonio.” but deep down Feliciano understand the reasoning of his uncle. Being afraid of making mistakes especially if someone who was single his whole life was thrusted in to the role of being a parent suddenly, even Feliciano would doubt if a professional could help or only make matters worse.

 

“Just...give him time, Feli.”

 

He already waited for four years. He could wait for more. He could do that.

 

* * *

 

_“How would you feel about meeting Dr. Braginski?”_

 

That was eight months ago. Flavio, at first, wanted to say no when his Papa said about setting an appointment for therapy sessions. He knew he needed it that time but his pride and fear still ruled his judgments. He only agreed though when Gilbert and Matthew decided to attend the same sessions under the same doctor. His friends said that they also need to seek a professional, their issues might not be as severe as Flavio but they knew  they needed to talk about it also sooner or later.

 

Eight months.

 

Eight months of accepting the past. Eight months of accepting that Flavio and Lovino was one and the same. Eight months of watching the figure on the corner of his eyes slowly dissolving until it was no more.

 

Eight months and he was once again walking the familiar roads of Italy. His hair was still the same, with its artificial blond color, his eyes still wore the contacts he had bought during his first year of college. Sometimes, if only for a brief moment, he still thought that all of these changes were just a mask to hide his past. But then he learned also to associate it as the marked of a new chapter in his life. He was still Lovino but it was not bad also to be Flavio.

 

_“There is no such thing as constant in life. It is just merely an illusion.”_

 

That was what Dr. Braginski told him. That it was normal for people’s personalities to change over time. Flavio was just more conscious about it unlike most people who do it subconsciously. One might be shy when a child then become bolder as they grew older. That was like Lovino to Flavio case. They were still the same person.

 

A turn to the left and a few steps forward, Flavio stopped in front of a very familiar house. With a deep breathe, he rang the doorbell. After the third ring the door was opened. With a smile he said:

 

“Ciao, Feli.”

 

It’s just another window to be opened. Another outlook in life.

 

**Author's Note:**

> (*) phrase from the song “Self Inflicted Achromatic”


End file.
